Artemis Fowl and the Five Ways
by Wizhoger
Summary: Sequel to 'Artemis Fowl and the New World'. As the young mastermind returns to his school of magic for another year of advent and knowledge, he unravels mysteries about which few ever knew...
1. A Summer Well Known

_Disclaimer: I solemnly swear that I do not own any of the recognizable characters in any shape, size or form._

**Note to beginners****: **This is the sequel to 'Artemis Fowl and the New World'. I strongly recommend reading it first for beginners.

**Chapter One**

**A Summer Well-Known**

What happened in the summer holidays is not a profoundly arcane recondite. Artemis Fowl the Second had at last found out the Book of the People, which was logically the Fairy Bible. He had translated the Gnommish text using modern technology, kidnapped a clever young fairy, claimed a lot of ransom money (gold, actually), then set the fairy free, who had cured his mother well very, and hence was solved the first sprite mystery.

Artemis had missed Butler more than ever in his life. Butler was his closest associate and he'd had live away from him for long. It was the same with Butler; Artemis was not only his principal, but more than a son. Though bodyguards were not to have any emotional attachment with their employers, Butler had broken this rule. But he felt he had no choice.

Artemis's mother had been cured by the fairy with her magic. But it would take months for the brain to actually realize that it was not disturbed anymore and for it to return to the present. With some precise calculations, Artemis Fowl had guessed that she would return to her normal mind around Christmas time. But he didn't know that it would be exactly on Christmas day. He would, when time came.

Artemis Fowl had survived the bio-bomb by escaping the time-field, which even fairies didn't know how to do. Now that his fairy ventures were over, he was into searching for news about his father again. But he wasn't having much luck over the issue.

He was, at present, trying to understand the mechanics of fairy technology, which was without a doubt more advanced than any technology that humans had. When they had abducted Holly Short, Artemis had taken her helmet and other equipments. Also, when the LEP Retrieval One had come to rescue her, Butler had taken some of the fairy accoutrements.

As far as Artemis knew (and he knew much, you know), fairy technology, if mixed with some of the human technology could revolutionize the world of technology and applied science. Whatever that was manufactured would well be decades, why, centuries ahead of what man (or woman, if you are very feminist) could fabricate. He could build Fowl industries and take every renowned commercial enterprise out of business.

So this was his main plan for the vacation. Though he wouldn't be able to do it all in these mere fifty days (around ten were _wasted _in the abduction affair), he was confident that including the vacation during Christmas time and all the weekends he would get, if he worked on it quite hard, he would be able to make a technological phenomenon.

Also, he needed to improve his magical skills. There was so much you could learn and practice, even without a wand. There were things like Legilimency and Occlumency, highly useful skills (you know about them, which is why I will not go into detail here, or maybe anywhere, for that matter). Legilimency would be very useful. For there were few who could do it, and hence no need to fear that those few would always try to pry on your mind. Obviously I am trying to tell that the clever and adroit and everyone-knows-what-else Fowl boy wasn't much interested in learning Occlumency.

Artemis was not at all getting bored by fairy technology. Learning new things was his thing. And he liked it very much.

But also, today was the day of an online chess tournament for accomplished chess masters. In it could participate all players who had a certified elo rating of 2200 and above, that is, if they qualified in the least as a Candidate Master, or if they were FIDE Masters (2300 and above), International Masters (2400 and above) or International Grandmasters (2500 and above).

Naturally, Artemis Fowl, a consummate grandmaster himself with an elo rating of 3044, higher than that of anyone alive or dead from the past or present, was eager to participate to test his skills. And now it was time.

Actually, his elo rating or chess genius was not known to the world. He'd calculated it himself after his matches with rated opponents by standard FIDE procedure. As far as the FIDE knew, he was a young grandmaster with a rating of 2512. It was always better if your opponents knew less about you or you were underestimated.

The tournament was a one-match contest. The player who finished his game with a most spectacular win would be the winner of the competition.

Artemis's opponent turned out to be Evan Kashoggi, who was the European chess champion.

They played for over one hour; and Artemis made his seventeenth move and his opponent was out of the game. Kashoggi resigned.

Artemis Fowl won the tournament.

But this was the least of what Artemis did in his holidays.

Artemis had patented twenty-three inventions and was planning on going public over four more of his inventions.

Also, as you all know, he won the architectural competition to design Dublin's new opera house.

Similarly, he had forged over a dozen Impressionist paintings, about which too, you would all know well.

But what you all wouldn't know is what he did relating to magic during his vacation. He'd gone to Diagon Alley and bought everything a second-year needed, and also bought dozens of books.

Artemis Fowl would have bet a year ago that he'd read more number of stories and novels than any teenager ever had, but not now. Wizards and witches had their own stories to account for, and he'd have to study each and every tale to see the world from the point of view of wizards. Of the dozens of books he'd bought for a bit of extra reading, half were storybooks. It was a strange sight for Butler, watching the greatest genius of his time studying a storybook.

Reading books turned out to be useful; he learnt more magical theories. But now he had a confusion that needed to be solved.

The perturbation did not come from learning magical theories. It came after interacting with the fairies.

The magical world aboveground had creatures like centaurs, trolls, gnomes, pixies, elves and goblins. So did the magical world underground. In addition, the underground fairies included demons, dwarves, sprites and gremlins.

How was it that in both cases of magical creatures, centaurs and trolls couldn't do anything magical? It seemed as if they were related to each other…

The only plausible explanation to this was that when the fairies went underground after fighting with humans during the Irish War, some of them had remained behind. And after thousands of years of evolution, each creature had changed considerably in appearance and abilities. Like underground goblins were moronic, while the aboveground ones were wily and knavish.

Also, the type of magic used by them was considerably different. The magic used aboveground was stronger than that used by the leprechauns, and was resistant to muggle stuff like electronic objects, that is to say, such things didn't work in the presence of this type of magic. Even Foaly's most advanced technology could not be effective near places of the superior magic aboveground.

Additionally, leprechauns could run out of magic. But wizards or witches couldn't. The most that could happen to them was that they lost or destroyed their wand.

Humans must have acquired magic somehow by forcing a magical creature that didn't have any magic left in it to reveal magical secrets, Artemis thought. And the creature must have really been in love of its life, for it had betrayed to humans a sacred secret that had been guarded for millennia.

And since humans were new to magic, they couldn't directly use magic efficiently without equipment. Hence they used magical substances to direct and concentrate their magic; wands.

The knowledge Artemis Fowl had uncovered and reasoned in under a minute was something most humans would give anything for. Importance of the knowledge was not what mattered to him, but. It was the very knowledge that mattered.

ooooooo

By the time Artemis had patented his four new inventions and finished reading each and every book bought in Diagon Alley, the summer vacation was over. In fact, tomorrow he was going back to Hogwarts, and tomorrow he would be thirteen. Not that it mattered much to him; I'm talking about the second part. The first part mattered to him unconscionably, immoderately, unduly, inordinately or whatever term you prefer.

When he awoke next morning, he smiled. It didn't happen often, yet it happened now. For we all know what today was for him. A return to the world of magic. A return he most fervidly lying in store for.

This summer had been very interesting; all the events that led to the titillation of this summer are very well known and need no mention de novo.

In no time (that is not correct, if you want to be precise) Artemis was sitting in the Hogwarts Express in an empty compartment and Butler was waving him good-bye. Artemis thought he saw a drop of the limpid, saline fluid secreted, in small amount, by the lachrymal gland, and diffused between the eye and the eyelids to moisten the parts and facilitate their motion in Butler's eyes (if you didn't get it, he saw a tear forming in the eyes of the old bodyguard).

The jaunt was eventless. Artemis kept himself immersed in _Overture to Non-verbal spells_. When at last the train stopped, Artemis stepped down from the train, and so did hundreds of others.

This time, they were to go to school in carriages driven by thestrals, as books said that all Hogwarts students except first-years reached the school that way. And books had rarely been wrong. But they had, though it doesn't matter here.

Artemis could see the thestrals, and he knew why; only those who'd seen a person dying directly could see them. Very few students could, as he understood by the expressions on their faces. And Artemis had seen a death. One that had affected him quite badly. One that actually changed his life in many ways, though he never realized that.

He looked up to see the eminent and towering castle above him, more beauteous than any building he'd ever seen before. At that moment, he felt an ardor in him like he had never felt before. The fervor nearly made him feel kind-hearted. Nearly. I'm turning good, he thought.

He entered the school. The Headmistress spoke the same words as in the year before. There was the sorting ceremony and then the feast, and then all the students were heading to their dormitories. This term's password was _Hairy Ailments_, which was suggested by Artemis as he told them that it was a perfect anagram of _I am a Slytherin_, and all of the of the Slytherins accepted it grandly. He was, from then on, considered a genius by those who knew him and those who didn't (very few) alike.

Artemis Fowl thought of all that he could and would do now that he was back at school. All warmth that he had felt when he'd seen the Hogwarts castle from a distance vanished as the criminal genius inside him awakened again. Maybe, there would be time for warmth later.

The thoughts swirled in his mind for as long as consciousness would allow, until weariness let sleep claim him.

ooooooo

**Author's Note**

Thus begins the sequel! How was this? I know you're all choleric as I've not mentioned Butler much, but he doesn't play much part for now. Everything will happen as it does in the books released by master writer Eoin Colfer, only they will be adjusted within this concept. And the Time Paradox is coming soon, so do you think it'll answer some of the many unanswered questions? Anyway, next chapter shouldn't take long… and please R&R!


	2. Eight Plus One Tasks To Do

_Disclaimer__: I do not own any characters that you fellows manage to recognize as the creations of Mr. Eoin Colfer or Ms. Joanne Kathleen Rowling, or of some other recognized author which I am pretty sure there aren't; Really, I promise I don't. So let's get on with the story._

**Chapter 2**

**Eight Plus One Tasks To Do**

The boy with an intellect that would shame the likes of monstrous-mind Albert Einstein himself, awoke earlier than his peers did (as usual of course), which they did at around 0700 and he at around 0530. And then did whatever everyone does after just waking up.

If it is not unmistakable that the boy I am talking about is none other than Artemis Fowl the Second, I am afraid I cannot help you there. For I am here. And let's continue anyway.

The reason Artemis managed to wake up antecedent and anterior to his fellow compeers lay in the fact that he had effectively practiced a technique to raise his level of Adreno Cortic Trophic Hormone which as is its working acted on the Adrenal gland and caused increase in the secretion of epinephrine and norepinephrine (sympathetic discharge) which reinforces the alertness necessary for effective action causing awakening.

As usual, he roamed the school corridors again, but this time he went to a particular place; the Room of Requirement. It amazed him that such a thing could possibly exist. No magic he had managed to learn until now spoke of creating any such object or place that could offer all magic known. Surely, the Room must have had been created by some highly gifted wizard, if not exceptionally. So he decided that he'd demand from the Room itself of its creator.

When trying to enter the room, the thing that he thought of was that he required a room where all answers to his questions would be answered. And so he got such a room.

Manifestly, Artemis the genius had a Disillusionment Charm upon himself; he was ingenious enough to know that it was a futile task to risk getting caught early in the morning; even in the noon, afternoon, evening or night for that matter; not that it required any ingenuity on his part anyway.

The room was a brilliant shade of sapphire-blue and ruby-red mixed in a manner that would dazzle even clever professional psychologists who are considerably used to such tricks of the mind – but not much effect on Artemis Fowl; he knew what he had asked for and that for the kind of room he required, it would look like some godly abode. There was in the virtual centre of the room a small pulpit of dull white in the dark-blue surface, which, Artemis believed, was the place where he was supposed to stand and ask his question(s).

He of course asked the one question that was recently haunting him – who was the wizard powerful enough to make a place that would recreate virtually any magic known to wizardkind?

An infinitely euphonious voice resonated from what seemed like nowhere and everywhere – for that one moment, even the near-atheist but actually agnostic Artemis Fowl the Second believed that he'd heard the Almighty's own voice – a voice that edified without explanation; just the tone made you understand everything.

The voice said, "My creator is none but the infamous Herpo the Foul – the first known wizard to have created a Basilisk and a very well known Parselmouth."

If anyone else had said the same to him, he'd have cut off them at 'the first known' itself with an 'I know'; for he knew of the greatness of the dark wizard Herpo. He was, though a dark wizard, a powerful one at that. For this very particular reason, he revered Lord Voldemort – the man who sought to conquer death but failed for his own reasons against a boy who barely knew anything about magic – that is, relative to the mighty wizard.

But this voice demanded attention from every cell in his body – and _he_himself couldn't bring it up to say that the name was enough.

But Herpo the Foul? That powerful? Powerful, yes – but this was no ordinary power that the best wizards of their time possessed, rather a power that the best wizards of all time possessed. Hmm… there was another topic to be investigated.

Now he asked another question of which he was nearly certain of the answer but still found it imperative to confirm the answer – he asked if it was indeed Lucius Malfoy who had killed the Yaxleys.

Now I'm not sure if all of you would be surprised – but at least I hope some of you will be; how did little Ah-temis come to know that it was the wand-broken new-one taken (wand destroyed, if you wanna be precise) Lucius Malfoy who killed the Yaxleys? After all, he hadn't even known him.

The Fowl boy bought the Daily Prophet during his summertime and read it thoroughly for any clues on anything interesting happening in his _special_ world. Amazingly, he'd seen the perfect match of Lucius in an article in the Prophet saying how he regretted over being Voldemort's servant and that he'd dearly not wanted to; and that the Dark Lord had forced him to work under his command. At once, Artemis knew.

The man's eyes betrayed him; he wasn't sure how many wizards had stuff in their brain enough to spot that; Malfoy was lying. So the 'Dark Lord' had not forced him to work; he worked of his free will under Voldemort's command. And telling this at this present situation could mean only one thing – he was acting under _his_command _now_. And that concluded into the obvious – the Dark Lord wasn't no more. _He _had somehow survived the battle in Hogwarts.

But our li'l Arty knew about Malfoy from his very name – one of the most feared Death Eaters at the height of Voldemort's powers. He'd never seen his picture. But now he knew.

And McGonagall hadn't made much of the issue to the Ministry, it seemed, or maybe the Ministry thought it was some kind of joke played by some foolish student and simply left the matter as suspicious. Or maybe because none could actually face the fact of what could happen if the 'Dark Lord' returned again. You couldn't exactly name them cowards, for we all know about the wrath wrecked by He Who Must Not Be Named. But they were cowards nevertheless.

But then, the Ministry should have at least contacted him to see how serious the issue was; but now that 'Mr. Malfoy' was acting nicely with the Ministry again, they'd seriously felt this as some kind of joke.

Back to the room then; he asked it; and 'it', whatever it was, answered what he wasn't non-expectant about – that indeed the Yaxleys were killed by Lucius Malfoy. Now this was a man he and Butler would deal with later.

Artemis knew what Voldemort's thoughts were over killing muggle-borns – a simple thing that he wanted to see only purebloods – those with pure magic flowing through their veins – living in the magical world. But the very idea was faulty – if it was to happen that by some unlucky chance most wizards started having squibs and the high rate of decline of birth of magically gifted children continued, there would be no more humans who knew magic; but if purebloods and halfbloods were to produce children with muggleborns, there'd be more wizards and a natural tendency to live to a larger period – for the entire race, that is – would increase. Darwin's theory of natural selection.

Voldemort might have been gifted with magic owing to Salazar's blood, but not as much when it came to pure thoughts and intelligent thoughts. He was clever yes, but in a deceitful manner. Artemis knew he wasn't much different, but knew he wouldn't go to the extent Voldy did – he wouldn't destroy the world to just have his right established.

That could be an overstatement, but still little Ah-temis wasn't that cruel. Not even after he'd kidnapped a fairy and all that.

These were mainly the two questions he'd wanted to ask – though there were thousands of others he'd dearly wish to – only there wasn't time as of now. So he hurried back to the Great Hall, only to see it was nearly already 0800. He sat down to eat his breakfast, not exactly happily but with a kind of mind wandering over the infinite possibilities in a given question or instance, which he did without a grudge. If you would take that as happy, then do. If not, then don't. That's all I have to say about the matter.

So the classes began and Artemis started up with the sixth year's portions; the first five years, he was already thorough with; better than any student who'd even completed his OWLs.

When it came to the part when the teachers asked the students to practically show what they'd learnt, he'd grudgingly do the miniature 'tricks' that were virtually nothing before the stuff in the Sixth year books. But usually every time, he'd be the only one to do it at the first try.

Artemis had many other things to think about – his father was yet to be discovered. He was sure his father was still alive, he just _felt_it. That was not usually Artemis's way, but intuition looked a strong suit here. He just _knew_his father was alive. Something inside him told him that his father was not no more. No, it wasn't just his solicitation to see his father alive. He knew this as if he'd seen his father alive in the future (this is actually true, but little does Arty know about it!) The search had to be hardened.

And of course, his cube – the C-cube, as he'd decided to call it – was under construction at home. He didn't want to bring it here and destroy its intricate mechanisms by bringing it in contact with a resilient magical force.

He was designing (and will finish it later, as you all would know!) a computer more efficient and compact than any in existence above the earth with the help of some of the LEP's equipments he'd stolen during his first fairy advent.

But apart from studies, there was something that'd recently interested him more – Voldemort's and Harry Potter's adventures – so he knew them better if need be. And he felt there was a need – with his suspicion of Malfoy being under Voldemort's command and the possibility that _he_could return; and so, subsequently, the need of Mr. Potter – the boy – now a grown man – supposed to be destined to defeat Voldemort.

He'd done a little research on their histories, and especially about the final battle, where the Dark Lord had supposedly been defeated. He came to learn that Potter and Riddle were discussing something about powerful weapons during the duel. The Dark Lord had challenged Potter that he couldn't defeat him, for he said he was more powerful than Potter through both his weapon and skill. But Potter disagreed and said that it was the other way round and he possessed both skill and weapon to defeat him.

But this was something like history, written by someone he didn't personally know. Therefore not very reliable. An investigation would have to be done by him of those who had actually witnessed the battle. Ideally, Potter himself would be most suited. He really had many things to ask one Harry Potter. But for now, he would have to do with the given information.

The info was that they'd actually been talking about a weapon being more powerful than another. Being somewhat immersed into wandlore, the Fowl heir knew that some wands with a certain combination – like Yew and Phoenix feather, like his or Voldemort's wand – were slightly more powerful, owing to the fact that they were made to be better suited to powerful spells (puissant ones like Fiendfyre, or the Killing Curse, or the one Dumbledore employs in the OOTP against Voldy which forces him to create a shield for protection). But that was actually never enough of an advantage to tell your wand was simply more powerful. And that was the only weapon they'd used in battle.

Artemis had heard of legends, though, of a wand more powerful than all others, a wand known as the Elder Wand. He'd read something similar in one of the fairy tales, about a wand that could not be beaten. But it was a fairy tale, and couldn't possibly be correct. An unbeatable wand? Where did so much power come from?

And then again, there was this history, with hundreds of references to the wand etched throughout the ages. A havoc that only such an exceptional weapon could wreck. And in this case, not all references could be entirely wrong. But the idea was too… no, it was feasible. Or wasn't it, now? He'll have to think about it. This one was going to be as good as the translating the Book of the People had been.

Ah, the People. With all the technology and crafts designed by Foaly, they were still no match for the wizards of this world. The technology just miserably failed near areas with this kind of magic. But then, Foaly had no idea his technology didn't work at certain places. Neither did he know of these places and the wizards who lived there. And he was arrogant enough to overlook it.

But Artemis Fowl knew both of these places and of the wizards who lived here and that even fairy technology didn't work here, so he knew he had to improvise. Soon he'd find a way to use technology in these magical areas. And that might be quite a revolution. Like fans, air coolers, televisions, refrigerators, and so many cost-efficient things. He might as well make millions of galleons from patenting new inventions like these in the wizarding world. But it was possible that there were more important things at stake than televisions or refrigerators. Like the return of Voldemort, for example.

His life was just getting an interesting turn, and he was back to what he generally did; observing data for all-around benefit. Self-centered benefit, of course. He hadn't come to the point wherein he could put others' welfare before his own. He now had so many things to think about, and everything required some big devious plans. Just his favorite.

And time wasn't the enemy here (as it will be in his future – less than twenty-four hours to save the world and all that) – he had all the time on earth for plotting his dastardly schemes (not _all_, mind you). Not that he required much of it, anyway – for he was a quick analyzer of situations – for that was how his brain worked. But that's a very primitive description of his brain, and its more complicated thought processes would probably even make him doubt he manages to think all that. Or maybe, probably not.

Hey, if you remember, I said that time wasn't the enemy here. Then what was? The sheer amount of plans needed to be devised and the perfection with which they had to be executed. Executing one perfectly was just more than simple, two wasn't difficult, three could be done, four would be slightly difficult (mind you, all this is for Artemis. I doubt any one of us would dare to make a single illegal venture one involving a lot of _devious_ and _tactical_strategic plans like Artemis makes that could result him in jail if in anyway the Constables On Patrol (that's the cops for you) manage to catch him – not that they would, anyway).

But eight of them? That was definitely devilishly difficilitating even for the great Artemis Fowl.

And then there was always the thing about improving his wizarding skills. Not to belittle his skills of course, he knew better about magic than most students at school, both in theory and practice. He'd even invented at least a dozen spells on his own that could be used for considerably work-saving purposes but he wasn't going to patent them just yet. Nope, definitely not yet. He was even closing in on the spell he thought was possible to be created for flying, and that would be history. For it was said that no known spell enabled wizards to fly unaided, except by making oneself an Animagus. He was going to change that and make a fortune for that alone. He had, though, heard in stories of years past that the Dark Lord could fly in the air without broomstick, thestral or other known means of flying. Well, if the Dark Lord really could fly and was in accordance with Artemis's hypothesis 'still alive', then he now had competition. From none but the most profoundly gifted intellect ever known (please neglect the 'unknown' factor here, for it is simply unknown).

**Author's Note**

Hey guys & gals, I'm really, _really_, and REALLY sorry, you know. I had all this really tough time at school with a lot of homework and all my preparation to get into one of these bloody Indian Institutes of Technology that I scarcely got any time to continue the story. Please don't be disheartened, I'll try my best and surely will be more consistent with the updates from now on.

I know that how much ever I try to convince you, it will not suffice unless in person, so I'm not gonna plead you to forgive me and all that. But if you feel it makes you better, then my deepest apologies to all of you who're with me, more so for those who've stayed with me from the beginning.

I'm pretty sure this one wasn't like some of the better chapters you've seen _me_ writing, well, for my standard. Mostly uninteresting with a little humor, I guess, and a big chapter too. Next one will surely be better than this one. Expect stuff in the next chapter. And I mean real Artemis Fowl stuff.

The plot for the second year will unravel gradually, I've already given you some clues in this chapter – but I hope to give my touch to it and not make it more like the corresponding Harry Potter book, as I have been criticized – to some extent correctly, I do admit – of following the plot of the Harry Potter book closely in my first book.

So expect better writing and an interesting (hope so) continuation of the story from the next chapter!

And of course, please review! Give your honest comments about the chapter; if you didn't like it, tell me, so that I can improve further. If you did like it, tell me all the same – I do require some encouragements and boosts to continue, for you know now (as you may have earlier) that I'm not an alien. Which human says he can do a task without the slightest support (I mean reasonable tasks here, not like adding 2 and 3 or stuff like that) from others? After all, we're all learning at every stage of our life, aren't we?

Oh guys, I don't think I have to tell you this again, but still... please review!


	3. The Diary of a Headmistress

_Disclaimer:__I do not own any of the characters here except those I may have made up. It will not be difficult to tell which one(s) I made up, really. Read on and you'll know I'm not lying._

**Chapter 3**

**The Diary of a Headmistress**

Well, let's assume that Headmistress McGonagall kept a diary. Just assume, it would make my work easier. For everything – from mathematics to physics to basic stuff, everything depends on assumptions. I won't go into details, but if you doubt it, contact me and I'll explain it to you.

EXCERPT FROM THE DIARY OF MINERVA MCGONAGALL, USE RESTRICTED

Today's work at Hogwarts was more or less the same as it usually is – no change in the routine. But as the days pass on, my amazement on discovering the ever-increasing skills of one Artemis Fowl just keeps on multiplying.

I knew that he was a certified genius in the muggle world, but never in my dreams had I thought he would shine like this in the wizarding world. The likes of this boy, I have seen before only once; in another boy, whose soul too had ached for power and had been full of determination – but the only thing was that the boy went on to follow the less chosen, more dangerous and incorrect path.

This Artemis Fowl is in every way similar to what Tom had been. I'd first heard about Tom when I'd come to know that he'd broken the school record in his end of the year grades in his very first-year. I was, at the time, entering my final year at Hogwarts.

Now this Fowl has broken Riddle's. Riddle went on about finishing two years' portions in one year, but this boy managed five in his first-year, I don't even understand where from he gets that brain the size of a planet. I fear he may turn to the bad path. But if that truly happens, the wizarding world is doomed. This one will be more powerful than even Voldemort ever was. As they say in the muggle world, it's true**:** the generation gap is increasing hugely.

There is only one thing _I_ actually can do – and that is to see to it that this boy is not taken as lightly as the Dark Lord had been in his young age. It was said that none other than Albus (sobs at the thought of him) had suspected Tom at school, but for this boy I'll inform all the staff immediately, at most within a week. They should monitor his doings in class and outside quite vigilantly, lest Voldemort the Second begin the next reign of terror. One Dark Lord has become, it seems, compulsory for every generation. Handling the last one was difficult enough, with so many sacrifices.

I know quite much about Tom from what Albus used to tell me; Tom would usually go into the school affairs and involve himself deeply for access to all kinds of information – information that could be crucial for his terror campaign. So he rarely missed out any information on anything.

This boy has behaved in a similar fashion – he'd quickly involved himself in the case of the murder of an innocent girl, and I can _feel_ the same purpose – information. So I decided to not give it to him, though he has given me what could be a useful clue. But Tom had pointed the finger at Hagrid for opening the Chamber of Secrets, and it is possible this boy is trying to escape the blame that might be put on him – but the reason I cannot and do not know, for I don't have a way with genii. Dumbledore always confused me, so did Riddle, and so is this young boy discombobulating me. I do not need to know it, though.

I suspect that this boy is somehow involved in Miss Yaxley's murder. How, alas, I have failed to even surmise. Unknown to the boy, I have even tried Priori Incantatem on his wand, but no spell worth killing anyone has been seen. However, I did see spells the likes of which I have never known – like there was one spell that he'd tried which combined the jobs of the Summoning Charm and the Levitating Charm and enabled the spell-caster to virtually fly through the air. I don't get it; how did he make _that_ possible?

All I need to know is that somehow this boy's knowledge should not be let to extend beyond those of normal wizards. Maybe then, after all this, I can stop another dark wizard from rising, after all.

ooooooo

That day the first class was Transfiguration. _Second year_transfiguration. It couldn't get more zany for him. Before the end of the class, the Professor would ask them to try out some of the minor transfigurations using the techniques she'd taught. And Artemis did them effortlessly, every time.

As usual, he started with his Sixth year's texts, sure that he'd be able to complete it fully by the next two months, both the theory and practical part. He in fact had a special permission from the Headmistress, there Transfiguration teacher, of course, for studying in advance his coming years' portions. Otherwise of course, no teacher would have allowed him to do so.

But nearly the moment he opened his Sixth year's textbook on Transfiguration, it snapped shut. Artemis was, needless to say, was surprised in the least – only his left brow rose slightly to show his silent amazement, while some of the students around him gave a sharp glance at the incident. Those who'd seen him do nothing with the book were even more amazed, as to how the book snapped shut of its own accord. They knew Artemis knew magic that was beyond them, but this was not Artemis' doing.

Artemis knew he didn't do it (of course) and neither could any other student have – they were so dumb they couldn't manage even the simplest spell without voicing it aloud, and none so clever to mutter a non-verbal spell without the use of their wand.

It was obvious that none other than _professor_McGonagall had done this. All this, of course, had happened within the span of two to three seconds. Artemis glanced questioningly at his _professor_, whose skills in Transfiguration would be no match to his by the end of the next year (he thought so), who smiled an evilly deceiving smile, and slightly shook her head at him.

"I have decided, Mr. Fowl," said McGonagall, "that you should not continue this reading of the next years' portions –"

"But Professor," Artemis didn't protest, he simply stated, "I have completed this years' as well as the next three years' portions, and you know that well –"

"I was getting there, Fowl," she said sternly, "Allow me to complete now, will you?"

It was not common that someone spoke to Artemis Fowl the Second with such authority. Had it been any normal human, Artemis would have had Butler kill that person on the double. But she was no normal human, and Artemis knew better.

There was a stunned silence as the students watched the verbal duel between their professor and Artemis, one owing mainly to the fact that they had no idea Artemis Fowl had already finished upto the fifth years' portions at Hogwarts.

Artemis's quick analysis told him that there was no reason she had to stop him from studying his future portions, except one – she didn't want him to develop his skills better. And that could have only one reason at its root – she suspected him of something.

She continued, "I and the other professors feel that your skills may be perfected better if you followed the class, so that your basics become stronger. That way, you see, you are not separated from your fellow students in your studies and you learn all the same."

It would've taken Artemis less than ten seconds to demolish her points and win the argument in a fair arena (from AFTP!), but she was the judge here and he couldn't possibly win the argument, the determination on her face told him. She was simply reluctant to allow him to study his future portions hereafter.

Anger welled up inside the first Fowl heir, but not one square inch of his body showed it. To all the rest of the world, he was an ordinary boy who had just realized what an _innovative idea_his _professor_had told him. He showed the appropriate surprise anyone would expect him to show and spoke, "Right you are, Professor. I will stick to your idea. That's a very good contrivance. This extra studying has in fact been troubling my mental faculties a lot." And then he smiled.

Minerva McGonagall shivered, for no apparent reason. Though none of his physical or verbal faculties gave it away that he completely despised this idea, she knew exceptionally well that this boy was completely disinterested in the idea. This boy's mental might, troubled by mere books? She knew very well about him and his genius. He had a big reputation in the muggle world. You could call it presentiment, but she knew that this could be a terrible mistake. But she'd started it off and the boy had agreed, and it only gave her more fears. But she had no other choice but to continue with what she'd started. Maybe he was only acting.

"I'm happy you see it, Mr. Fowl," she said with not the slightest tinge of happiness showing either on her face or words, "so you will by the end of tonight return all your additional reference books taken from the library. And try to perform better from now on."

The way she said would've made anyone outside listener interpret that this was a low-scoring boy interested in useless things. But there was no outsider listening, so no problems.

Artemis Fowl had expected this, of course, but the reason that McGonagall would give would be interesting to him.

"Why the reference books, professor? Surely they may come in useful for assignments and all those stuff?" Artemis (of course) asked.

"Yes, Mr. Fowl. They'd surely come in useful for assignments _if_ you haven't already read them. As I gather from your friends, you have already finished reading over half of the reference books at school, too. And you wouldn't be requiring any more reference than what you've already got. You see, there are others who want to refer as well."

Any human in the place of Artemis would have felt the urge to look at the _friends_ who'd given their secrets away. Naturally, Artemis felt the urge too, for after all, Artemis Fowl the Second was not inhuman. But the mark of difference was that others would have willingly obeyed the urge and looked, but little Arty rejected the useless urge to continue looking on at her. He had his own reasons.

One, no _friend_or enemy of his who knew him would dare to give anything that they all knew about him away, for they all knew of his skill with the wand.

Two, the only people who _knew_him where his roommates and none of them knew the name of one in ten books he'd borrowed.

Three, she'd said that his friends had told her this, so she'd definitely not checked out with the librarian. Anyone with even cow-dung for a brain would have thought it obvious to have asked her (the librarian, of course) first. Perhaps Miss McGonagall was so silly she didn't even have that.

And four, of course, she'd said that others had wanted to refer too, though no assignment had yet been given. There wasn't a single student in second year who'd willingly borrow a library reference book unless there was some must-do homework or assignment.

It was obvious that the Prof had made it all up by some guesswork. But Artemis had to agree, accurate guesswork. As she'd said, he _had_already finished reading over half the reference books available in the unrestricted sections. He'd read some from the restricted section too, but there were many more that he had to read yet.

Artemis smirked. The Prof's frown hardened.

Artemis said, "Of course, professor. I'll hand them back by today."

Though skeptical, Minerva thought she'd won; for once she informed the librarian as well, his access to the books for 'days' could be shortened to 'hours'.

Of course she'd lost more terribly than she'd thought, for Artemis had a better plan. He chided himself for not having escaped the suspicion earlier by implementing this one. No matter, he'll see to it from now on.

But this did actually create some problems for Artemis. Now he'd be wasting his time in all classes but one; clearly, the one class was Professor Binns' class. That one scarcely cared what his students did, and just went on blabbering about goblin revolutions and the rise and the fall of the dark ages in as stodgily prosaic a way as was usually possible.

Unless of course, he (li'l Arty) knew of a better way. As e'er, he did.

Effective illusions would do the trick. He could easily show that he was reading the book he was supposed to be and actually read something else. And he could easily again look like he was listening to his teacher with devout concentration but be doing something else altogether, but of course he couldn't be far off physically, for the teacher would be able to find out if he/she asked him a question or if he/she came quite near him.

No matter whatever anyone could try to do, Artemis Fowl the Second wouldn't be wavered from his path. That's what he thought. But little did he know that the one who would 'try to' do that wouldn't have much trouble in wavering Artemis from his path. For that was his (not Artemis's) usual way of doing things.

ooooooo

**A/N:** I know, I know. I more or less promised in my last chapter that something really good would be happening in this chapter, but sorry nothing actually did. I thought you would be more irritated if I didn't update rather than if I posted a… um… (bad, let's take it) yeah, 'quicker' update. And anyway, some people felt there were very few chapters for the first part, even I feel the same, so this might just may be make it a little longer, I suppose. Hope you aren't angry with me. Even if you are, vent it in a review.

No matter what, you liked it or hated it, please give me a review!


	4. Stealing Books and Strange Bearings

_Disclaimer:__Oh, I'd totally forgotten this when I posted this chapter first. A second into the preview and I knew something was missing. Now, you still believe I own the characters in here, do you?_

**Chapter 4**

**Stealing Books and Strange Bearings**

Artemis didn't notice any change in the other classes _that_ day. It was obvious that she (who else but McGonagall, of course) was planning on informing the other teachers as well, or her attempt was sublimely, unmitigatedly, trivially futile. So at least soon enough.

Of course, the young master did as he was told, returning the books borrowed from the library in the evening, of course. He didn't want to waste them by keeping them in the library where they'd rot (not literally, mind you) till someone not foolish enough would ask for them. It wasn't exactly returning, for he was going to take the books back again as the library closed; he'd thought that when they were giving the books without asking questions, it wasn't a problem to simply borrow them. Now that they were posing hurdles, he'd have to do it his natural way – steal them for the night and keep it back in the morning before the library was opened. Of course, he'd barely get four hours to study late in the night and early in the morning included. Now he'd have to wake up a little early too, but that probably wouldn't be much of a problem.

Manifestly of course, all this was considering that 'not foolish enough' person did not actually take the book(s) in the first place.

To a genius, it would be obvious how Artemis Fowl was going to steal the book(s). And he would be right.

To someone who's bright too, it would be obvious how Artemis was going to steal the book(s). But he'd be wrong.

An average person wouldn't have cared however Artemis was going to steal the book(s), he'd just read whatever way I'm gonna present them.

Don't even care beyond that, someone below average probably wouldn't be there in fanfiction at all and; reading this fanfic, even more unlikely.

The most common way most bright people would probably suggest is using a Disillusionment Charm to hide himself and steal the book(s) from the library, something like Harry does in the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone (different people prefer one of these titles to the other, so I put in both. Personally, however, as I've mentioned earlier, I prefer Sorcerer's stone 'cuz of alliteration). Or some might say a simple summoning charm should be enough, but probably most won't, for it'd be obvious that summoning charms, even when done carefully and delicately, didn't prevent the object from colliding with this and that and somehow trying to reach the caster, thereby creating a lot of noise and hence high probability for getting caught.

The Disillusionment Charm method would be tiresome for Artemis for he'd have to stalk to the library and he certainly wouldn't do it unless he had no choice. Didn't he now?

He was a wizard after all; and probably the cleverest. He'd rather create a new spell to summon the book without the problems of the normal Summoning Charm. And this is what most genii/geniuses (both are correct) would have thought Artemis would've done. And so they would've been correct.

Yeah, yeah, I'm getting to the point now.

So Artemis Fowl invented a spell that would smoothen the effects of collisions, by placing around the object many buffers which could be dislodged at ease by the spellcaster – and of course, the object should be invisible during its period of flight. Actually not merely smoothen, the effect would be such that not one decibel of sound would be heard (_that's_ difficult, but let's go on anyway), and that's an add-on to the fact that it can't be seen at any rate.

And only because he was too lazy to go up to the library. Now there's one guy you can't just stop appreciating.

It was amazing how most things followed an extraordinary pattern. Around a hundred and fifty years ago, there came Albus Dumbledore to Hogwarts, and he became one of the greatest wizards known. Some seventy five years later, one Tom Riddle happened at Hogwarts and he too remained (more likely remains, thought Artemis) one of the greatest of all time. And now, another seventy five years later, here was Artemis Fowl the Second, probably better than the two of them combined (not as of now, but at least in the near future). This seventy five year pattern was intriguing, even to Artemis. Approximately for every five generations, two Master wizards were born. The logic in nature's ways didn't strike Artemis. It probably never would. After all, he barely had an intelligence quotient of something around three hundred; what was he before He, whose intelligence was such that there wasn't a scale made yet to measure it?

(I am not referring to Jesus' Father or the God in general you know about in religions, I do not believe in man-made religions. But I believe in the eternal religion, devotion to God, the only path to attain Him. It is obvious enough that He exists. Anybody intelligent enough cannot doubt the existence of a superior intelligence behind the activities of nature. If you wanna discuss more on God, I'm always free to talk, as that is life's sole quest and purpose)

Artemis couldn't understand infinity. Not at all. He simply believed it could not exist. How could an endless thing be given a name? For if you are giving it a name, you are giving it an end. If you say that numbers go on till infinity, you mean that after that 'infinity' something can't exist. That way, infinity is being given a definition. But it is actually something that is undefined. The very idea of infinity was a stupid notion.

(Anybody who hates math as hell _must_ skip the coming para; else you'll start hating my writing as well. Readers beware, you have been warmly warned well; it is your sole responsibility if you lose your mind because of reading this para)

They said that infinity existed but only in the mind of God, so even if it existed, no mortal or immortal who didn't have the mind of God could rationalize its existence. Which is exactly what people were trying to do. And some fool out there had said that some infinities were greater than others, which he called transfinities. And that there was one Absolute Infinite, he said, which he equated with God. Like between one and two there are infinite rational numbers. But between one and three also there will be infinite rational numbers, but this set will consist of all the infinite rational numbers between one and two and those between two and three, so this infinity will be greater than that between one and two. But this was a totally insensible notion, because by saying that it contained _more_ he was fixing a limit to the first infinity – contradicting the fact that infinities are not finite. So there will basically be no difference between the total number of terms between one and two or one and three; which defied intuition and common sense together; so simply, infinity cannot exist. And though some of the theorems in modern mathematics based on it were accurate enough, it was totally unnecessary to use something which cannot logically exist; and the same went with complex numbers. What use of imagining things that cannot possibly exist? Imagination and creativity were very important, but they should be feasible at some finitely known point of time in at least an advanced civilization. But since these things scarcely dealt with finity, they were totally ridiculous. The point was, modern civilization was making a grave mistake; it was trying to gather all knowledge by speculation and observation. Infinity obviously exists, but no man could understand it! The only reason being that the senses are limited, our intelligence, creativity – everything is limited. Instead of speculating on things, one should accept authorized knowledge. Speculative knowledge can only lead one to so much doom – the petroleum based sources of energy had to led greater destruction of nature and hence mankind than to profit. All the so-called vehicular comforts have only made life all the more difficult to manage. Man is drowning in the ocean, trying to learn to swim there – though scriptures, the great ships – are waiting for him to climb on to them and cross the ocean of material nescience. And yet he does not wake up to this.

Enough of infies I guess, so let's go on.

Artemis the Hunter hunted Hogwarts' _heavily_ guarded books in a matter of seconds.

ooooooo

And this continued on; everyday (night, actually) he would take the books, and keep them back before the morning in the library. Of course no one detected or suspected him. Who would suspect a mere twelve-year old 'genius' of stealing things?

ooooooo

That night, McGonagall did not rest easy. There'd been something about the smile in the boy's face which had said that he already had a plan ready to exploit a weakness in her words that she'd not foreseen. She tried and tried, her brain nearly fried, till she virtually cried to think of a way the boy could have the books; no success. He just couldn't have taken them or kept them. Of course, she'd totally missed out the fact that genii are genii only because they think of things others mostly usually totally miss out on.

Albus had said that he'd talked with the boy, so he'd know some stuff about the boy and also he'd have informants from all over the school portraits; he wasn't just the type to sit quietly and peacefully, without knowing the things happening up and about and around him; though he appeared serene most of the time, because his mind was generally beyond normal thoughts. Actually this was the main reason that he was said to be absent-minded, because people thought this was one of the flaws of the _flawed_ genius.

So Dumbledore must know something about the boy, and she wanted to know what he thought about him. Snape's ideas would be worth it too, though she hadn't yet totally managed to accept Severus as a good person who'd been working for the good side after all, owing to years of hatred between them – being the Heads of House of the two Houses in Hogwarts with such a great enmity only adding to the dislike. Snape would feel proud that his House had produced such a great student, but anybody would agree that one wouldn't wish the next Voldemort to come from his own House. Not even Snape. Definitely not.

That is, assuming that the Dark Lord was gone. He was, wasn't he? Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin, Tonks, Fred and so many countless others had given their lives in the Second War to ultimately defeat He Who Must Not Be Named. Harry and his two friends knew something about Him, and they held that he couldn't return now, he was gone forever. Dumbledore knew it too, supposedly he only told Harry about it. Now she never knew anything when the Dark Lord was defeated by Harry when he was only a year old, nor did she know now. She could never say. But she trusted Dumbledore, trusted Harry, and that was the last thing she could do. But it was not to say that she always had a tingling fear within on what would happen to the world if Vvv… Vvv…Voldemort (hell, she still had trouble saying his name) did return. With no Dumbledore to stop him, it would be free rein for him on earth.

That was one reason why she didn't generally think about it – it was maddening. She kept reassuring herself that it was a totally silly notion; the Dark Lord returning and the world falling at his feet. Evil had never won against Good, so it just couldn't happen. Lord Voldemort wasn't returning.

Here, reader, it is important for you to note that all her ideas had been more or less wrong. She thought the Dark Lord couldn't return, which was wrong. And that if he did return, everyone would be powerless to stop him. Again, terribly wrong. Of course the prophecy was misinterpreted, Harry Potter was not the boy born to vanquish the Dark Lord _once and for all_ – merely twice and both were not permanent vanquishings.

And thus begins the tale of the return of the Dark Lord and the second Artemis Fowl struggling to manage a world of crime outside and magic inside…magic before which the _other_ magic (fairy magic) was but a cipher…a mere shade of the true power.

ooooooo

**A/N:** Yep, I would agree, quite a small chapter and I dunno whether you felt it as an interesting or boring chapter, I sure did have some fun writing it . The next update, well, to say frankly, can range from December 29th to January, say 25th (my b'day!) as far as I can guess now. That is, of course, ignoring the quantum probabilities of the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, which would state that there was a finite probability of my posting the next chapter as early as a yoctosecond after the post of this chapter or as long as beyond infinite lifetimes of the universe (our universe of course) itself.

You're not bored, I hope?

Even if so, please do review. Your reviews matter much to me.

I cannot but thank all of you people who're reading this. Reviewers have my special thanks. I see so many of you adding my story to your favorites list or to the alert subscription, but why don't you people (specified to non-reviewers only) review ? I'd be really grateful to all of you if you at least drop in a word or two on how the chapter was.

I'd of course prefer a sentence or two, but a word or two is the least you _can_ do. Please. Pretty please.

And I thank all of you who've stuck with me from the beginning, and those of you who haven't read the first part yet, please do that first! Special thanks to librarywitch, Nyita7, Sean Mulligan, Moi, The Shang Kudarung, Kishhu Neko, Ranyo Malight, Kermita, thales85, soupcan, Moonlite Knight, Renegade Pot Smoker, Vyrsena, Dashippy and Global Conquest-er.

Some of you might've started wondering what the 'Five Ways' might refer to. I _may_ give a clue on it in the next chapter…keep wondering..!


	5. Light, Flight and Might

_Disclaimer:__If you don't know by now, be warned: it is not in my power to own the awesome characters that I use for my stories (though I'd be glad to do so)._

**Chapter 5**

**Light, Flight and Might**

Time slipped past with enormous speed as only those subjugated by the quandaries of forced stress can realize. Speed, not velocity, as time cannot be assigned a spatial direction, for it has a dimension of its own, temporal dynamics of which though several physicists discussed at great length, no real understanding of provenance or denouement emerged; this despite the fact that popular physicists such as Dr. Stephen Hawking had famously tried to ward off the question "What was there before the Big Bang?" with a seemingly plain answer, or question if you'd rather: "What's north of the North Pole?"

Yet having never been actually subjugated by stress, having managed to overcome all mental strains he'd faced in life, the Fowl heir apparent was not easily trapped by the mundane attempts of their professors to give them homework, which was apparently making time fly for his fellow students. In fact, he was really enjoying his freedom – to him it was like an eighth grader receiving five single-digit addition problems as homework for the weekend.

Yet as the damp air of late October closed in, so did Halloween and the first Quidditch match of the season. It was Slytherin versus Ravenclaw. There had been no change in the Slytherin team from the last year, and with their present form, there was little reason to worry – yet it was not unusual for everyone to get nervous as the match came up. Captain Kirke, in fact, was becoming obnoxious by all accounts.

Only on the day before Halloween, Kirke could be heard yelling to his team mates, "Damn it, I don't know how, but the other houses seem to be having more practice sessions than usual, and half the professors are not willing to give us permission for practice – it's like they're against us!"

Artemis knew he should be feeling guilty for this. Professor McGonagall had told the other professors about her ideas regarding the restriction on Artemis's levels of studies, and he'd found out as much from delicate psychological experiments conducted behind the effective illusion trick that he employed. He hadn't been caught yet, but clearly McGonagall's word was having a bad effect on their Quidditch practices.

"I'll see to it," said Artemis, "I think Professor Longbottom would agree, seeing as he isn't very partial towards us because we're Slytherins, and he wouldn't understand the intricacies of the reasons why other professors are not giving us time for practice, seeing as he never played Quidditch himself. Nor was he ever a good flier, from what I've heard."

If such information had come from any other student of the House, there would have been surprise and chaos at how a Slytherin knew so much about a former Gryffindor. Yet the Slytherins were by now mostly used to the fact that they were dealing with Artemis Fowl, so nobody complained. In fact, under normal circumstances, there might even have been questions as to why the professors weren't allowing them for their practice; but they knew only too well that Artemis would tell them that only when it was necessary, and that it was best to keep quiet whenever he spoke.

Of course, Slytherins were not the type that were easily intimidated. Yet Artemis Fowl had that effect on most people, and more so after a tragic incident just a fortnight past.

Artemis had been bothering to explain in detail how pressure tube valves worked for their Muggle Studies, beyond the scope of his fellow mates' understanding and well more than they needed to know for the subject; and an extremely annoyed fifth year student, already under the load of large chunks of homework in preparation for the OWLs in his year, thought he'd get the better of Artemis.

"Can't you just keep quiet, you disgusting bit of know-it-all? Enough of your explanations, I'm having a tough time concentrating on my work! If you don't shut your muggle-born mouth about muggles I'll be forced to transform you into a bouncing ferret," Cadmus Pearson, the fifth year, had said with what he thought was a threatening glare, wand drawn out.

It was an unsaid rule that even the rare muggle-borns who made it to Slytherin House not be called a mudblood. Yet to call Artemis muggle-born was almost as dangerous as calling Voldemort an arrogant prat. Perhaps a tad more. Artemis Fowl did not take to insults lightly.

Though the tension in the common room had instantly been raised several-fold, Artemis, stopped in mid-lecture, was unperturbed. He calmly turned towards Pearson, smiling his vampire smile; he didn't even draw out his wand.

Pearson was so agitated by Artemis's mocking that he quickly fired a nose-bleeding curse at him, and just as Artemis raised his hand, a wand appeared from nowhere into his hand and with a casual flick, he deflected Pearson's spell. Even as Pearson stood stunned at his place, Artemis merely waved his wand – Pearson managed to cast a Shield Charm, but it appeared to have no effect on Artemis's spell. Pearson felt as if he'd been punched hard in the stomach, dropped his wand and was down on his knees. With another casual wave of Artemis' wand, knives on every statue inside the Slytherin House closed in on Pearson and slowly revolved around him, as though waiting for the silver lining to cut him into pieces.

And then Artemis flicked his wand. Thin blue strings of pure energy blasted from his wand, enveloping around one Cadmus Pearson. He was drained of any energy left in his body except the bit needed to sustain life, and the energy floated above his head in a swirling mass of brilliant blue, gathering into a sphere – in accordance with the laws of physics, occupying the minimum surface area for its given volume. Not that anyone in the room understood that, it was a shade of Artemis's own genius and a little physics applied to magic.

Artemis smiled. He'd got a test subject as well as a sound message to anyone with ideas of going against him. One stone, two mangoes. Now for the final test. If this worked, he actually would have confirmation for his theory on how a wand could truly be made powerful over time. He could, in short, explain the existence of the Elder Wand. It fascinated him beyond any magical object he wished to possess at the instant. Even the Philosopher's stone.

As Artemis brandished his wand like a whip, the mass of energy (technically an unfeasible phrase, for mass is energy, energy is mass, though not dimensionally) floating above Pearson started disintegrating in spirals, just as two galaxies about to collide might dance around each other, and cocooned around his wand. For a moment his wand glowed brightly and then it was back to normal. But he could feel the difference. The vibrations. The power buzzing beneath. It had worked. His theory had proof.

Artemis enervated Pearson and sent him down the hospital wing with the note that he'd swallowed a Flipwork Flogstone by mistake. Madam Pomfrey was only too happy to take care of him. But most Slytherins who saw the endeavor by Artemis got the message. Pearson had been the best in their batch, not to say the brightest student Hogwarts had seen since Hermione Granger herself, as Professor McGonagall had noted, despite her reputation for having been Gryffindor's Head of House before. No one bothered Artemis unless necessary. Unless absolutely, unavoidably, inevitably necessary. And it was perfectly fine with him. In fact, he was counting on it.

ooooooo

It was Halloween morning when Artemis decided to visit Professor Longbottom.

This man, the Head of House for Gryffindor, was someone most Slytherins would usually hate for purely no apparent reason, just due to the ages of dislike for the foolish Gryffindors that hung visibly in the air for most of the time. But a few of the intelligent students thought otherwise, as he was usually stuttering and more drawn back than you'd expect for a Gryffindor. Or in Slytherin terms, cowardly. He had an excellent knowledge of his subject, though he barely appeared to be around twenty-five years of age; after the fall of the darkest wizard in centuries, why possibly millennia, he seemed mellowed. Maybe he'd always been like that, but references mentioned his famous part in the battle against He Who Must Not Be Named. Yet he had a distinct sense of humour that made all students like him. He wasn't very serious or insistent about theoretical studies on any subject, he preferred that practical knowledge be implemented – the kind that is actually useful for life, and the kind that students loved as well. Not that there were many interesting things in Herbology, unless you were dedicated to proficiency in magic of all kinds, where a few but the best of students claimed their fame.

"Good morning, Professor," said Artemis with what was apparently a warm smile, while Professor Longbottom was busy testing a new juice he had extracted from the newly discovered species.

"Oh, hello, Artemis," replied Professor Longbottom with an awkward smile that most people would relate with Arthur Weasley's when Molly would be found shouting at him.

It was his habit to call most students by their first names, another indication of his jovial nature.

"Happy Halloween, Professor. That's a newly discovered species, I take it, Professor? One of the non-venomous tentaculas, perhaps?" asked Artemis curiously. None of the standard 1001 Herbs and Fungi had a description matching this one. But then books weren't always reliable.

"You're good, boy," said Neville wagging his finger, "scarcely have I seen a student showing such interest in this subject or even knowledge. You're a natural. You'll grow to be great, you have my word. Happy Halloween, by the way."

"Thank you, Professor," replied Artemis meekly, "it was only a guess."

"An intelligent guess, I might add. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of an early morning visit, Artemis? Surely you could not have known that I was extracting this tentacula's serum today?"

"As a matter of fact, Professor, I knew that you were transporting a new species yesterday night. I really wanted to have a peek at this and also discuss the paltry matter of our Quidditch practices."

Peek. Artemis swallowed. Not the kind of word you catch Artemis Fowl using often. Not even when he was attempting flattery.

"Indeed, I'd love to know where you get your information from. Quidditch, did you say? What about it?"

The clever way Artemis imposed a trivial purpose over his real purpose mostly baffled others into believing that he was attempting to assist them, he liked them and so on. Yet, due to that psychological treat, they invariably found themselves helping Artemis before he 'assisted' them. Which he never did. And which, in fact, they never noticed.

"We're running a bit late for our practices, Professor. We haven't had a decent session for a long time, and I should say we have better chances of losing than winning this match," said Artemis.

This was a lie. Even with zero practice, Artemis could win them the match. Yet, practice would improve the confidence levels of his teammates, and psychological conditions were sometimes more important than physical conditions before a game. At least for their sakes. Now, he was caring about others, was he? Amazing.

"With a seeker such as you, Artemis, I have little doubt Slytherin will lose out on a single match… not even Harry was as good, you know. I mean Harry Potter, of course. But if you insist… alright, I'll give you a written permission to practice for the rest of the week. What are your preferred timings?"

"Evening six to eight should be more than enough, sir."

"Very well. Here you go," said Neville and gave him a magically written permission after a few seconds' work.

Not bad for a few minutes' work, thought Artemis as he walked to Kirke with a smug smile.

ooooooo

As Artemis walked down the corridors for a bit of fresh air that'd aid him to think more clearly, he noticed the Bloody Baron staring unusually at the other end of the corridor. Something was afoot, but Artemis tried to be as casual as possible, not making any distinct action or deviation from his path.

On careful but cleverly concealed observation he noticed what looked like tears in the Baron's eyes. Here was the only ghost who could control Peeves, and him, tearful? Repentance, possibly. Or this day marked something special. Repentance was unlikely, as he'd had hundreds of years to do so, and it was unlikely he'd choose a particular Halloween day for his penitence. So something special, possibly bad. Impressive.

As he turned around the stairs he casually glanced at the direction where the Baron had been looking, to find a tall, pale looking woman glancing sadly back at the Baron. There was hate, disappointment, sadness and regret on her face. She looked on the verge of tears too. It took Artemis a second to realize that she could be none other than the ghost of Ravenclaw tower. But her name and history… he did not know.

How could he have missed to research on the ghosts of each tower? It could prove to be a useful powerhouse of knowledge, as they'd surely have accumulated the wisdom and experience of several centuries. He chided himself for having been so ignorant on this matter, and decided to resolve this as soon as he could. But from what he'd just seen, there was some link between the Baron and the ghost of Ravenclaw tower.

For some reason, she appeared amazingly similar to Rowena Ravenclaw herself; possibly a close relative. Probably very close. He'd find out all in good time. Now for the small test he'd planned for.

Even as he walked close to the Whomping Willow, the tree seemed to utter a low groan and flexed its branches, as if it knew what was coming. Always better to be pre-informed, thought Artemis. He smiled.

Thankfully, as he'd expected, there was no one outside the castle at this time. He'd recently learnt that this was a tree that was one of a kind, fiercely aggressive when provoked, yet with a subtle point somewhere, touching which the tree would fall silent and small openings nearby could be explored. This was amongst the age-old practices used to keep away the unfortunately bitten werewolves, hide possessions or in exceptional cases, to seek shelter in dark times. With the advent of modern times and the Wolfsbane potion, the use of this special tree had died down.

Yet Hogwarts had it. And from Artemis's judgments, the tree couldn't be over fifty years old. His approximations had yielded it an age of forty two, with an error of plus or minus four years. Forty two. Amazing how that number crept up everywhere. Perhaps Douglas Adams had been right, after all. Or perhaps, it was just a mere coincidence, and the human mind only attaches importance to and notices those words or numbers that you want to see, ignoring the others, thereby increasing your prejudice on a neutral standpoint merely because of your imperfections, longings and foolish tendencies. That would mean the Absolute Truth existed, and it was definitely not 42 – or anything materially conceivable. Better attempt to understand it when an authorized authority spoke on it, rather than speculating on it with imperfect senses. Yeah, that made more sense.

The reason he had to approximate was because a highly imposing quick-growth charm had been induced in the tree, and he had to make corrections for its accelerated rate of growth. And even with that, the rate of growth of magical trees was simply… magical. It was not an easy estimate.

Amongst his most recent brilliant innovations was the new spell he was planning to test. The tree was hard as rock almost everywhere, save for the soft spot where it had to be tickled, or touched, for its aggression to cease. His new charm did the splendid job of finding the weak spot of anything, and attacking precisely on that spot with any incantation immediately following the charm with the same frequency, lest someone else unwittingly tamper with the charm through mid-incantation.

On applying the spell to himself, followed by a temporary tickling charm, Artemis found that his weak spot was at a point in his right thigh, slightly above the centre of the femur. He'd immediately taken a tenacious resolve that he'd have Butler check up on whatever his problem was in that part of his body. It was embarrassing. Perhaps he shouldn't have tried it on himself.

As he cast his spell on the tree, it whirred to life, shuddering under the ethereal force of the spell. A bright yellow glow surrounded the tree in helical motion, probing swiftly for the weak spot in the tree. According to his theory, the soft spot and weak spot should be the same for the tree, as physically speaking, the tree would be easier to penetrate at that point than any other. It wasn't a very complex theory, and there was little reason why it should be incorrect, if it was; which it wasn't, as he soon found out.

The gentle but cogent probe ended in a matter of seconds, as the entire surface area of the large tree was scrutinized for its weaker sides. A dark circular glow remained where it found its weakest spot till its present scrutiny, only to be vanished and replaced by a similar glow when it found an even weaker spot. At this point, Artemis realized that his searching algorithm could be improved. Seconds could be converted to deciseconds, at the least. Interesting how he'd managed to miss that before. He should think harder.

As the spell indicated the weakest spot after a complete analysis, his tickling spell curved around in the air to make its way to the weak spot.

Artemis loved parabolas. They had a perfect eccentricity of unity, and that was the reason that unless he was doing serious spellcasting, he always swirled his wand so that the spell moved in a curved path. It was not difficult to prove that the path taken was purely parabolic, and could be easily done by considering the magical kinetic energy and gravitational potential energy involved. Of course, assuming the spell was cast reasonably close to the Earth or any object with nearly uniform gravitational field throughout the path of the projectile.

Even at home, he played by throwing balls merely to bemuse at the parabolic trajectory they took after every bounce, rather than as the usual teenager's interest. He did this to soothe his mind, while plotting dastardly schemes.

As the soft spot of the tree was touched, there was no observable change as his powerful charm was already having the tree repressed. He removed his charm and proceeded to observe the opening large enough for him to squeeze in. It was a very effective place to put the tiny opening, as it was virtually impossible to get in there otherwise without going against the tree, or being a very small animal like a rat. Of course it wouldn't be too difficult to destroy the tree, but it might cause commotion, and transformation into a small animal was reasonably dangerous. It made your life highly insecure.

Maybe for a student, mused Artemis. It would be unlikely that the Whomping Willow should stand in a school for any other reason. And the school was, perhaps, informed late of the student being a werewolf, so a quick-growth charm. This seemed the most likely possibility. Not most students were werewolves when they were students, so rounding in on a student who studied a forty odd years ago at Hogwarts, bitten by a werewolf shouldn't prove too difficult. As a student Animagus, he must have been registered by the Headmaster himself, at the least. Research for later.

With a quick swish of his wand, a powerful beam of light blasted from his wand into the secret passage. A spell of Artemis's own invention, the beam efficiently reflected inside the place and copied the shape of every single place where a ray hit, rendering a 3D model of the place where it reflected upon its callback. Not dissimilar to modern forms of magnetic resonance imaging, it used the same principle with modifications by Artemis. After a few seconds, he drew back his spell, and a three dimensional rendition of the passageway and its other side of the opening turned up before him. Storing every nook and cranny of it into his brain, he banished it away with a flick of his wand.

As he turned to leave, satisfied, he noted a rustling of curtains in the upper towers of the castle. That window was in the Headmistress's room. There was only one explanation.

Uh oh, thought Artemis. McGonagall was coming, he was certain of it. There was only one method of escape, perhaps two, but the second was high risk at any rate.

A decoy. He needed a decoy to keep her attention down. He had to fly his way to the castle. He hadn't tried the spell yet, but it was time to put his theory to test. There weren't many choices.

He cast a sinewy Disillusionment Charm upon himself, and with certain manipulations of half a dozen spells, created a heat haze that hovered beside him, apparently a possible result of an almost perfectly cast Disillusionment Charm. That should fool her.

Even as he thought this, a cat leapt ahead from the castle at inhuman speed, slowing down at a safe distance from the heat haze. With a quick upward jump, it transformed into Professor Minerva McGonagall, smiling at Artemis Fowl. Or so she thought.

"That was clever, Mr. Fowl," said McGonagall, "but not ingenious enough."

She screamed a spell of which Artemis knew of, but not the method of its casting. Immediately a silent wind started roaring against the nearby trees and bushes, reliving the area of all magical concealments and encroachments. To McGonagall's disappointment, the heat haze merely vanished, without revealing an Artemis Fowl behind it. However, a variety of secret chattels of generations of students sprung up, and so did two fourth year Gryffindors kissing behind a few bushes.

Enraged at failing to catch Artemis, she directed her anger at the students of her former House.

"How dare you…? Sneaking out of the castle early morning… disgusting behaviour, twenty points from Gryffindor for your insolent imprudence! Now get out of my sight before I get more points off for this kind of demeanor!" seethed McGonagall.

Caught red-handed and actually happy that they didn't get detention, the pair of them made a run for the castle.

Artemis watched the whole affair floating a good thirty feet above her, smiling at how simply she was fooled. But the second method wouldn't have worked. Thank the Gods above, I wasn't lazy enough to go ahead with that plan, he thought. Gods? Now he believed in Gods. Interesting. What about the Cosmic Consciousness that he'd agreed with? Hmmm… it was very interesting. To pray to God when he is in difficulty is a natural instinct in every living being. That should obviously imply that every living being is eternally related to God! A person might have died in some year, but another person is born next year – but God is the same! When God is eternal, his parts and parcels – the living beings, cannot but be eternal. So death is but the pathway to a new life… but what life? It is obvious that animal life is despicable – eating stool and all – and that human life is by far desirable. What could possibly ensure continuation of human life, or if possible, higher forms of life as yet unknown to humans?

As Einstein had explained gently to his professor, God is the embodiment of all that is good. Only when we don't think of Him, in His absence in our lives, we find evil. Evil doesn't have a separate existence from good just as death is not separate from life – absence of life is death. That's it. As long as one works on the premise of duality, one cannot find peace in life. So the only possible deciding factor that could decide which life form one gets next could only be his good or bad acts in life, summarized in ancient Sanskrit texts which have no origin as Karma, the wheel of action and reaction. So ultimately, one cannot but have a higher goal in life than to prepare for the finale – death – the decider of the better future.

Artemis was surprised at his own conclusions; from partial agnosticism, he was now obviously conscious of God as the supreme force behind nature. The truth didn't seem far-off anymore, only his limited senses had hidden it from him. It's importance couldn't be understated in life, but for now he wanted to deal with what he felt were pressing concerns. Perhaps in the face of God these concerns were insignificant… but he knew not. He had to come back to this. He knew he would. But for now…

More of that later. He'd thought there was no one around, but there had been two idiots who'd sneaked into the place. They would definitely have come here before him, otherwise he would have noticed. Even so, it was lucky they were too concerned about each other than what one Artemis Fowl might be upto, so he was safe. But he couldn't count on that everytime with everyone; he needed to be prudently alert next time. The last thing he needed was a witness for McGonagall.

He'd completed his theoretical work on the overall spell that made a person fly at will. Yet he'd had other important things which had higher priority than this, so he hadn't tested this out yet. Reliable as his theories usually were, occasionally even Artemis Fowl overlooked a few insignificant things. Butler wouldn't accept that, but then he wouldn't expect him to. But situation had called right now, and he had to go by his theory, and it worked. His spell worked, and he also managed to get out of what could've been a tight situation.

Now, am I not clever, thought Artemis. Of course he was.

As McGonagall walked back to the castle scowling at everything in sight, Artemis made for the common room. I'll catch you someday, Fowl, she thought.

Enough experiments till Quidditch, thought Artemis.

ooooooo

Halloween decorations seemed more marvelous than the previous year's, yet left Artemis unimpressed. He was reasonably confident than if he had designed the Hall for the feast, it would have been about thirty five times more stunning. His calculation was based on accurate decorational science as was developed by popular decorators and the psychologists who worked on the people subjected to such decorations.

The sumptuous Halloween feast allowed Artemis to meditate on the ways of evading death – the one topic he wanted to know about more dearly than life. More dearly than life. He chuckled at the caustic satire of it, and those who heard him moved away from him. A convivial Fowl was more dangerous than the serious genius.

In a quick swirl of thought, an idea struck him. Dark Magic. By all means, there must be. Why ever not? I shouldn't have missed this. How stupid of him. Stupid of a genius? Oh, the irony. That was two jokes in as many seconds. Concentrate, he thought. You're not being serious enough.

Anyway, they had a week for Quidditch practice, and that was all Artemis could buy at short notice.

ooooooo

On the Hogwarts grounds, the air was live with broomsticks as the best Quidditch team Hogwarts had seen in decades, probably centuries owing to the Seeker alone, went ahead with its third practice session since the start of the term.

The Chasers were doing a brilliant job, but the Keeper had improved loads. Considering they were the best Chasers around, they still managed to score only about half the time they shot the Quaffle at the hoops.

Artemis was observing the snitch with his usual cynical grin, wondering how the makers of the snitch as well as generations of Quidditch players failed to notice that a standard tactic in the production manoeuvre of snitches led to the removal of the randomness associated with its flight. This was a very basic pattern of snitch-making, and even slight deviations by the makers could not leave out this particular moulding in its making. Yet no one had spotted this pattern yet, so nobody had complained about snitches having patterns. But then, there were few wizards who were slightly above dimwits.

The beaters were reasonable, yet they didn't know certain manoeuvres as they were fairly new. Artemis had told them to borrow Bludger the Dodger by Craig Eskall and Decentre the Beater by George Weasley from the library, the latter being a very new and illustratively brilliant book for any Quidditch newbie in general.

Weasley… the name had sounded familiar to Artemis. After racking his brain cells for a second or two, it struck him. Harry Potter's best friend, Ron Weasley, and his wife's maiden name was Ginny Weasley too. Looks like the Weasleys have close links with Potter, he thought. So they'll be my first target for investigation.

Presently, he was toying with the snitch, thinking of the possible reason why wizards had never followed that the snitch was at a particular position after a certain time after the start of the match. But of course, steridians. The direction of release determined the particular trajectory that the snitch would follow. Its motion was congruent to that in any trajectory, yet the steridian of release would constitute in essence a new trajectory almost every release, as theoretically infinite steridians could be visualized, and the trajectory of the snitch was complexly large enough for even the smallest difference in degrees to make a huge difference. Personally, as yet Artemis had not needed this as he determined the path purely through observation of the immediate tangential direction at release point of the snitch. However, this explained why wizards would be even more hard pushed to find a pattern.

"Artemis, how're you doing? All set for the match?" shouted Kirke after putting through one of his rare goals against the strong keeper.

Not expecting an intrusion, yet ready for it, Artemis said, "Oh yes, I am… if you need a demonstration – "

"No, no, Artemis, I'm sure you'll do well – "

"A demonstration," stated Artemis firmly, a tone which requested no further arguments.

By now even the beaters had stopped training, and everyone turned to see what Artemis was going to do.

Artemis released the snitch, which fluttered away, disappearing quickly into the night air.

"You shouldn't have done that," said Kirke, "it's dark and we might not be able to catch it – "

"_I_ am the Seeker. I'll have it in front of you in less than sixty seconds. If you wish, you can count."

And then he was off with such elegance that two of the Chasers, who had been sharing a private joke, found that he had simply evanesced from the spot. But soon enough, looking where the rest of the teammates had been looking, they found him arcing through the air in graceful spirals. And at what Kirke would call the most inopportune moment, Artemis jumped off his broom quite unadvisedly.

And then he flew – literally flew – hands wide apart, feeling the rush of wind, a sense of control beyond the world. And then he raised his hand, and snatched something more or less invisible to others what was actually the snitch, and glided through the air, while his broom sped up to catch up with him.

With a smug look and blunt arrogance, he slowly crept through the air to where his teammates still stood awed.

Kirke started, "Artemis, that was – "

"Amazing," completed Prinster, who knew well that Kirke's following word would be nothing but 'foolish'. Yet to call Artemis foolish was a folly, and she didn't intend it to happen anytime soon in her presence. It was a good decision.

For all his genius, Artemis still failed to understand the concerns and cares others had for him, though they knew he was talented and capable. That very emotional solitariness alienated him from compassion on others. I'm trying to play God, Artemis thought. I seek help from Him when I'm troubled, yet I try to play God and get praise for my so-called glories, when all strength can but only emanate from Him, he thought. That's the whole problem of this material existence, he thought. As long as I'm trying to play God, instead of surrendering to Him as His dear child, there is going to be no peace for me. I have a lot to learn, he thought.

ooooooo

"Boggleworth has the Quaffle, she passes it on to Prinster, back to Boggleworth, Kirke gets it now, back to Prinster – that's the Hawkshead Attacking Formation, these are guys are damn good, honestly – Boggleworth scores! Slytherin lead 40-10!"

Artemis was quietly watching the drama unfold from his broom, at a good score feet above the highest hoop, in the centre of the field; meanwhile keeping an eye on the Ravenclaw Seeker for signs of cognition of the golden ball.

His team was doing well; surely the Ravenclaws would find it tough to get a lead on them. Yet they'd managed very well so far, considering the half a dozen saves by their Keeper and the single goal they scored against Sauvell.

He watched helplessly as the Ravenclaw Seeker crashed onto Prinster, and Prinster fell, breaking her knee. Though Artemis would have loved payback immediately, he knew he'd be the first suspect for McGonagall if he did any such thing, assuming a ground full of students wouldn't notice a curse soaring at a Seeker. He could have used illusions, but he wasn't prepared for motional illusions. He'd not expected foul play. He was getting ever more careless by the day.

Though a penalty helped them score a goal, the loss of a Chaser seemed to hurt hard as Ravenclaw scored two more goals while they managed only three; this in the consideration that they were virtually unbeatable as a full team.

"80-40 to Slytherin as Miller scores for Ravenclaw. Boggleworth gets the Quaffle, passes it to Kirke, he's heading for it alone, quite the quick guy he is, and – oh no! The Ravenclaw Keeper rushes forward to meet him… and they crash! Surprisingly the Keeper is unhurt, seems like Kirke can't continue, it's only one Chaser left for Slytherin – do something, Fowl, or Slytherin are in trouble!"

Jones had continued to do the commentary for the matches this year. Artemis glanced in his direction and gave a glare that clearly meant I-know-what-to-do-mister-so-shut-yourself-up-if-you-can. Of course he couldn't, he was the commentator. Unfortunate for him.

Yet he was right – even as Artemis glared at him, another goal soared past Sauvell; clearly, the fall of two team members had knocked the air out of him. He was worried for himself now, as the Ravenclaws had clearly planned this out. In fact, he was hoping beyond hope that they attacked the remaining Chaser first. Typical Slytherin.

By the time Artemis decided that he should probably go for the snitch now as Boggleworth would manage very little by herself and made precise calculations for the position of the snitch, its future positions and the quickest way for him to get there considering the movements of the Chasers and the air gaps, two more goals had slipped past Sauvell. Not that Artemis was slow; the Chasers were just too good. Sauvell was completely out of his tone, and Artemis had to go for the snitch.

Cooper, the Ravenclaw Seeker, made to follow Artemis just as he went for the snitch in a swift flight. As he swerved in the brilliant path he had visualized before he caught the snitch, Jones yelled, "Fowl has seen the snitch! Cooper follows, but Fowl should get there first, and meanwhile Ellis scores, 90-80 to Ravenclaw!"

He didn't attempt the flying idea in the presence of all the teachers. There might be awkward questions, and it was always better to keep good ideas to oneself. As his hands efficaciously closed around the tiny fluttering golden ball, he turned around to look at what he expected to be the delighted faces of his team's one still standing Chaser and beaters. He smiled, but the expression on their faces froze. Even Ravenclaws froze. Not what one usually expects for winning a match almost single-handedly.

There was only one explanation, as a giant shadow covered the field.

ooooooo

Artemis was having a healthy breakfast in preparation for his match, when he had had a glance at the Daily Prophet. He'd study it in detail at leisure, but a glance was always useful never the less. As it would turn out to be.

Apparently, a dragon had escaped from the Gringotts Training Camp, a Welsh Green, but with enough fire within to turn everything green to the remains of a fire accident. Not that it'd be an accident.

Artemis was impressed. A dragon, loose in England. That'd give some trouble to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And so it did, with every other department blaming the lapse on it and all the troubles it'd cause, especially on muggle sighting.

He mentally revised the spells that could be powerful enough to use against a dragon. There weren't many, and a few would be dangerous enough to kill it. And he could never cast those spells in public, for if even word got on about them, they'd probably be rated Unforgivably Unforgivable Curses by the Ministry. They were spells bound with such terrorizing force, humorous effects and unbelievable power that one would expect no less a wizard than Albus Dumbledore or Lord Voldemort to come up with those.

He didn't know that the revision was going to be useful, but it was.

ooooooo

**A/N:** I have nothing to say but a big, large, humongous and extra-large sorry for the extremely unimpressive delay for this update. I had my reasons, but I don't want to make excuses for my inability to properly balance my time. But then, I'm not Artemis Fowl, and time management is a symbol of genius.

A clarification in regard to which no one has yet, as is apparent to me, noticed a flaw in my storyline. I state Alexis Burke as a Ravenclaw when she throws his pen away, and then she turns up for Slytherin Quidditch trials. It shows that I've been careless, and she doesn't have any immediately apparent big role to play in any upcoming chapters. As for the clarification, for all purposes my original intention was to put her as a Ravenclaw; I retain my intention, though her attitude to Artemis might suggest something very Slytherin in her.

This is a reasonably larger chapter than most I've posted, as I thought that'd be the least compensation I can make for the late update. I'm ready to continue, in fact considered completing the next part I visualized, but an update a day earlier is still better. Always.

For those who've been sticking with me, thank you. For those who got tired of me and my late updates (none were this late so far, still) I'm just plainly extremely sorry. For those who lost hope in me, please attempt revival, for hope is the last resort of happiness.

And as I said in the previous chapter, I've left a reasonably big hint, perhaps an entire section, about what the Five Ways could be! And as for you cunning fans of master Fowl, it shouldn't be difficult at all!

Please read and review!


	6. His Greenness

**Important Note**: It would be useful to read at least the last two chapters, there have been some changes, plus it's a very late update, so some of you might've forgotten. Throughout both the first and second parts of the entire series, there have been several minor changes, edits, corrections; that does not guarantee this to be error-free, however, but I've tried what I can. If you've liked the story so far, reading it again after a long time would be wonderful refreshment along with the minor changes. However, I've decided to retain the copy-pastes from the Philosopher's Stone and one excerpt from Artemis Fowl; they fit in the context, and for people who haven't re-read the Artemis Fowl or Harry Potter books for a reasonably long time, it would be nice to see some of the works of the original authors.

_**Disclaimer**__: If you were searching for the person who owned the characters I'm using in this chapter, I'm afraid to disappoint you that I am not that genius._

**CHAPTER SIX**

**HIS GREENNESS**

He turned to face the bulk of the monster, just as he saw the Ravenclaw players flying, or rather, fleeing, amazingly fast enough towards the ground that over half of them crashed in a most humorous manner, thrown off their brooms, happy to have a few bones broken rather than give up their precious lives; the Slytherins were worried about Artemis, but being real Slytherins, they were busy saving their own necks. Artemis, as usual, was left alone, with only his impregnable skill and little time.

In that fleeting moment he remembered the sorting hat mentioning that Rowena Ravenclaw would certainly not have wanted him in her house. She was clever, but good by nature (whatever that was). Artemis was cunning, but evil. Ravenclaws were honest enough not to lie or cheat when there were issues serious enough to sweep the limits of trivial transactions, but Artemis was a criminal mastermind. Other than Salazar himself, no other founder would have accepted any evil-minded student into his House; perhaps owing to the fact that Salazar was a master trickster himself. Slytherin House had the knack for producing the most evil-minded graduates from Hogwarts.

In the face of a dragon, only dark spells unused for millennia could save them. This dragon was large enough that a few Stunning Spells weren't going to stop it from destroying all on its path. Spells found only in the minds of the greatest wizards of the age, or in the never-rusting books in the restricted sections in big wizarding libraries all over the world.

Artemis hardly knew any of even the simpler magic that an ordinary grown up wizard was accustomed to. But his curiosity and correspondent skill in some subjects were resplendent enough that he was contemporaneously ignorant of subtle and simple spells, while at the same time well versed in spells complex to such a great degree as to be beyond the understanding of even the most skilled Aurors.

The group of students and professors, thousands strong, was so enwrapped in watching the game that nobody had, till the moment of appearance of the ominous gloom of doom of descent from the mighty Welsh Green, noticed the wake of destruction the dragon had left in its untethered flight over the lands surrounding Hogwarts. Most of the greenery around Hogwarts' northern gate was burnt by flames hot enough to melt gold. And when people did notice, the commotion was unprecedented.

Most of the students and some of the professors profusely panicked and started running about helter-skelter. The tiny problem was that when a dragon the size of a castle towered over you, there was hardly much room to escape its imposing presence. It was much the sky was falling over you; irrespective of where you ran, you were not gonna escape.

Steve was eager to join the crazed crowd, knowing full well the troubles associated with associating with an untethered dragon, even though the association only meant standing over a thousand feet away from the dragon; Jack restrained himself and Steve from moving from the spot, having no idea of leaving Artemis to face the dragon alone. It was very brave, but equally foolish. The best they were capable of doing was to produce a few sparks from their wand, hardly enough to frighten a mighty dragon.

There were many more that stayed back, if only as a matter of duty; this included some of the sixth and seventh years, which included most prefects, captains and the head girl; others who held positions of authority; and most of the professors. The head boy however, was seen running away from the scene, on the sprint for the great escape. Some were sincerely comprehensive of the situation and understood the dire need to protect the castle and the students. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Longbottom had no plans to leave, while Slughorn was staying back only to maintain his dignity as Head of House and to avoid being chided by the Headmistress for being a renegade. However, he was the only person absolutely ready to start running at a word of command from the Headmistress; a sight Artemis would've found amazingly funny, had he not been bound by more serious worries.

Back to the dragon.

The sheer size of the monster and its fire spewing tongue could have inspired chills down their spines among all but a handful of wizards throughout history. The numerous scars on its body were testament enough to the attempts made to confine and restrict the dragon; which was reason enough to believe that the dragon was nothing but an uncontrolled beast of fury, not a tamed puppet allowed interim free roam.

His Greenness, a very warm (or hot if you will) being by nature (hopefully not an understatement), felt the chill of the North Pole attract the body, and hence set off from London towards that very direction that felt intuitively cooling. It so happened, however, that Hogwarts came somewhere around its blasted path; which, of course, the dragon did not know. But the lure of the flesh of thousands of people midway was something a dragon, of all entities, could not avoid.

A real dragon. Artemis had but heard of dragons only in well weaved tales. Not to say he disbelieved in them after he came to know they were classified beings largely under the control of the Ministry of Magic, but even people growing up in wizarding families found it hard to believe in dragons before actually sighting one. They were scary and mythical enough that people felt it was easier not to believe in them than otherwise.

Just as with religion, Artemis thought and smiled. People are sometimes so scared that they are great sinners according to the codes of religion that most just tend to ignore it as concocted fallacy. But then, people in general were not intelligent; how could they understand that the entire cosmic manifestation can but be an insignificant portion of the opulence of the super-intelligence behind the activities of material nature. God is there, but His neophyte followers don't know how to present Him before the public; they don't know how to preach; so the public is poorly misguided, he thought.

But he knew that these brilliant ideas blossoming in his mind were only poor attempts to sugarcoat the situation at hand by his intelligence. Here was an enemy – a real enemy. Either Artemis won, or he died. It was as simple as that. He didn't have enough time to fly away as did the others – engrossed as he was in catching the snitch. The half a dozen seconds employed for a futile endeavor had changed his situation completely. And even if he placed complicated illusions before the dragon and sped away, he would give away the entire school just to save his own neck, as the dragon was bound to be distracted towards the mass of people below; assuming the dragon had not come here just because of the smell of the flesh of the thousands of humans.

Artemis accepted his endeavor for catching the snitch as pretty much futile. He had been concerned with a graceful style of finish; if not for that, he wouldn't have been really absorbed in thought as he more or less knew the position of the snitch and the calculations he needed to make were trivial enough. And if he hadn't been so immersed in grace, he would have noticed the dragon, being one observant little chap.

Wherever I go, whatever I do, I fall into trouble only because of my sometimes unreasonable desires, thought Artemis. If only I wasn't so concerned with gratifying my senses, he thought; they're the root causes for all miseries. Lord Buddha was partially correct; desires are the cause of all miserable conditions. But then, it was not possible for a person to be desireless.

It is one thing to have deep philosophical insight into the problems of life, and another to do them when inaction was only synonymous with imminent death. Considering this, Artemis abandoned another of his mind's escapist attempts from the situation at hand. It was time to face the dragon.

Of course, this entire episode of thoughts lasted for perhaps another half a dozen seconds or so only; but then, he did not know that much of this was going to affect his philosophical insights sharply, and was going to change many of his preconceptions entirely later on in life. But then, as psychologists put it, our intelligence often cooks up the finest ideas under pressure and lack of time, as opposed to the more logical solution – a relaxed mind with ample time. It was almost as if… it was a blessing from above come to help in desperate situations.

McGonagall's voice through the mike was unmistakable, "All students, head into the castle immediately. Mr. Fowl, you will come back to the ground at once and take shelter within the castle! A young student such as yourself has no chance against a fully grown dragon! Do not attempt anything, and come down immediately…"

She perhaps went on for a few more seconds, but Artemis had heard enough of her speech to understand it was not going to be helpful to him in any way.

The first thing to do was to save Hogwarts. Artemis quickly conjured an illusion to distract the dragon away from the School, an array of undulating and changing multicolored lights that confused the dragon sufficiently to make it lose its sense of purpose. For half a minute, the dragon just shook its head again and again, trying to make sense of what he saw. For half a minute, Artemis considered how best to proceed. With a swipe of his tail over the illusion, the dragon confirmed that it posed no observable danger to himself. And with physical touch by the dragon, the illusion vanished.

Artemis had expected this eventuality; the process was only a temporary distraction. Ready to go, he rose the invaluable few feet to face the dragon face to face.

By now, McGonagall, Longbottom and Flitwick had summoned their brooms and were up in the air to face the dragon along with Artemis, in the formation around him that she had told them to form as they rose into the air; they had to face the dragon anyway, and they'd have preferred Artemis out of danger. But when you're down on the ground, someone's up in the air, and you want them to come down, you can't do much but wait. Pulling them down with magic was only tantamount to homicide.

Slughorn, of course, had sought permission from the Headmistress to stay back on ground to protect the students and to calm them down and organize them. But had Minerva been fortunate to have Moody's eye, and was perchance checking if Slughorn was doing what he said he would, she might have noticed that he was busy pushing away other students in the dash for scrambling into the castle. And another funny sight that would have been too, seeing the fat man competing with many able-bodied teens; of course, if not for the dragon.

As they rose, Flitwick said, "It is a Gringotts dragon, Minerva – "

"I don't hear a thing, Filius!" cried McGonagall.

Nobody heard it properly. At a good height, when a dragon is flapping its wings facing you, and the wind is hence blowing fiercely, whispers are barely audible.

Artemis, however, closest to Flitwick, got the tone of the message. And he knew exactly how Miss Minerva was going to respond, and he almost groaned. But knowing that it would be misunderstood and taken as weakness on his part, he allowed himself to be quiet.

"The dragon belongs to Gringotts, Minerva!" Flitwick cried, "We cannot harm it critically, but we have to protect Hogwarts nevertheless! What should we do?"

"We cannot cause it permanent damage!" shouted McGonagall over the rushing air, "so we will all try to stun it, on the count of three, you too can try, Mr. Fowl, I hope you know the Stunning Spell, now one... – "

Minerva would generally never allow any student within reach of danger in a tight situation. However, despite their misunderstandings, she admired, if not respected, his talents, and knew they could be of momentous help in desperate times.

Artemis silently groaned again, knowing full well this was a futile exercise but unable to voice anything owing to the lack of apparent time.

Neville was intelligent enough to respond quickly, "Can't you see that even scores of Stunning Spells won't work against this dragon, professor? Perhaps if most of the older students and professors combined, yes, but most will be – are – too scared to face a dragon… we have to – "

"We have to what exactly, Neville? What exactly, tell me?" she screamed over the wind.

Neville knew they could not use Unforgivable Curses on a Ministry-controlled beast. But this wasn't really in control anymore, but it was hard to prove against a strict McGonagall. Dumbledore or Snape would have surely known how to act correctly, but what McGonagall was doing was going to be fruitless and neither did he know what exactly to do.

He started, "I don't know, but…"

"Exactly!" cried Minerva, "just do as I say, none of us have a better plan! One…"

This was the third time Artemis groaned mentally in a matter of seconds. Just because they didn't know what to do, they couldn't include Artemis to say "none of us have a better plan". People never understood him. He always had a better plan. When will people begin to realize? In any case, he was confident of survival, so he didn't want to disobey the Headmistress and gain his first detention, valorous though it may be. He would realize later that he was perhaps a tad too overconfident. The survival thing, not the detention.

The dragon had, meanwhile, just composed itself after having come out of the multicolored illusion set up by Artemis. As McGonagall counted to two, it sent a roar thrumming with such immense sound energy that the four of them were thrown a foot back in their brooms.

This had varying effects. McGonagall and Neville just stumbled before getting back their grip. Artemis, though light enough to have been expelled off his broom violently, took the wind out of the dragon's sails by having held onto the broom tightly enough to just fly for two seconds from the force of the roar before settling back onto the broom again. Very funny, making me fly in the air, Artemis thought.

But for poor, short Flitwick, who was busy contemplating various powerful charms efficient enough to subdue such a large dragon, was completely thrown off-guard. Barely holding onto the broom with two fingers, it took him a full seven seconds with a little magical assistance to climb back onto his broom.

As all of them were ready again, Minerva shouted, "Now… three! Stupe – "

The unexpected, as is its wont, occurred. The dragon lashed out its tail at the four of them at such a velocity, they had no time to prepare; even the great Artemis Fowl was, extemporarily, taken completely off-guard.

Without exception, all the four of them were thrown off their brooms; they were flying towards the ground at a great speed, which only gravity was allowed to dictate.

They were wizards and witches, no doubt, but summoning a broom only worked when you stayed at the same place; the spell only gave the object the power to trace the position, from which it was summoned, and not the wand or user itself. And unless someone caught it at its position of summoning, its momentum would let it continue. So the broom if summoned would essentially only be flying hither and thither as they kept summoning it again and again and it kept missing them again and again, never reaching them, as they were already dropping to the ground at a varying acceleration less than gravity, owing to damping by the inconsistent wind. If the wind was consistent however, by the laws of fluid mechanics, they would attain a constant acceleration; these were Artemis' last thoughts before he attempted to compose himself.

In other words, they had no known means of escape.

One second passed. Everybody was silent. They all looked at each other, scared out of their wits; with the exception of Artemis, who, despite the obvious and impending doom, tried to maintain a semblance of calmness, though he also knew full well it was only a matter of seconds before they were broken into pieces by the abrupt force with which they would hit the ground. There was no practical way to stop it happening.

Another second passed; from a distance he could not fathom, Artemis heard McGonagall scream.

ooooooo

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**:

I'm sorry to have disappointed you all with zero updates for a very long time. I came close to discontinuing many times. I'm not personally really sorry about not having updated the story, as I did have many things in my life, some of which have changed me almost entirely. And I mentioned earlier about my struggle to get into one of the Indian Institutes of Technology – I succeeded. Wasn't an easy job, if you try googling about the difficulty of the entrance exam – but I somehow managed it. All credit to the Creator.

I will probably continue the story; but if not, I'll reveal every plot idea I have as a separate chapter so that you may try to assemble it yourself or fill in the gaps as you may feel comfortable with. For any of you who've liked the story so far, or at least found it to be not-so-bad, I can guarantee the plot elements will be very, very interesting and surprising. The way I want to present Artemis is an extremity of both his intelligence as portrayed by Mr. Eoin Colfer and of magical abilities as partially portrayed by Miss J.K. Rowling in the forms of Albus Dumbledore and Lord Voldemort.

The actual time span of this entire chapter is something like one and a half minutes, approximately. I love describing the lovely aspects of reality in vivid detail, and this was one particular such chapter. Sorry to leave you at a cliffhanger, but that's a prerequisite for storytelling.

A simple puzzle for you guys – when they were all flying, Flitwick, as I've indicated, was right next to Artemis. But was he on his right or left? What are the positions of Minerva and Neville? If any of you get the positions of the four in any order from left to right or right to left right, I will reveal one significant future plot idea to that person. And no, this is not arbitrary – there is sound logic behind this 'formation ' Minerva had them form around Artemis, one owing to Artemis' wand hand being the right hand, another owing to McGonagall's sense of prestige and care. Artemis will conclude the logic behind the positioning soundly and answer you, but in the next chapter.

If you can find the positioning and review before I present the next chapter – which, for your information, will definitely not take as long as the previous updates have taken – then I'll reveal at least one significant plot element. Not something obvious, like Voldemort will return… ah, I revealed something I didn't want to, did I? Lol. That's the intention, anyhow.

Please read and review!


	7. The Unexpected Tail Whip

_Disclaimer__: Nope, neither Mr. Colfer nor Mrs. Rowling have seen it fit to let me own their characters that I use in this story.. yet._

**CHAPTER 7**

**THE UNEXPECTED TAIL WHIP**

There was indeed no known way of escaping their impeding falls to death unless someone on the ground helped, the main reason being that when the dragon lashed out at our fantastic four who decided to take on the monster, they all had their wands knocked clean out of their hands, including the Fowl heir himself, who, although not easily surprised, found himself wandless, broomless, and as many would call their fall, hopeless.

But this was Artemis' specialty – he knew things no one did. Even while McGonagall screamed, Artemis held out his hand in a thrust at the ground, muttering an incantation so fast, Flitwick was surprised. Fowl knew that they were about 400 ft. above the ground and it would take about 5.6 seconds for them to touch earth with corrections for air resistance; he had to finish the spell within 3/4th that time or they would get seriously injured or worse. They were running out of time. He was not prepared for this. Come to think of it, he was not really prepared for the dragon, either.

He just knew he won't make it in time. And he couldn't make them all fly. And if he fell with them, nobody could protect Hogwarts from the dragon. For the first time in his life, Artemis Fowl's selfishness would actually be for the welfare of the masses. Now that was irony, but Artemis didn't have time for it.

He managed to unleash the spell 30 million nanoseconds late and knew that that should call for some broken bones, even with the very elements of nature acting against their nature to land his teachers safely. He knew that trying to build up air resistance or creating a cushion on the ground would be futile as relative motion could cause blunders. What struck him was pure genius – the elements! The fundamental forces of nature were not subject to relativity and were absolute in relation, and if he could use them, they could be saved. From death only, though. Bone stability was not an option.

Artemis personally had just enough time to stop falling and start flying; now he had to face the dragon. One would almost feel sorry for him. The dragon, of course.

Now that Artemis was by himself, he raised his hand gracefully and his wand appeared from nowhere, and he clasped it with seasoned indifference. His carelessness had almost cost his life. It was a good lesson for him to not play with big things. Especially very, very big things, like larger than a castle. But then, had he learnt the lesson then and there, he wouldn't have had trouble with one Jon Spiro. But more of that later, because defeating a dragon can even put Voldemort on a high.

Artemis could not defeat the dragon using an extraordinary spell without being questioned by the authorities. But he had plans for that. Big plans.

Before Fowl could flick his wand, a dragon thrice the size of the Welsh Green came and headbutted at its heart. Even Artemis looked stunned.

This isn't happening, thought McGonagall, and she passed out.

The larger dragon roared a terrible roar and flew away, as if nothing else mattered to it all.

That's odd, thought Neville. Why didn't that one try to eat us? He concluded that it must've just had a great meal and couldn't be bothered more. He saw Artemis try to bind the falling dragon with large, ancient chains summoned from within the castle and tried to help.

Professor Flitwick intervened, "the dragon's dead, Neville, stop trying to tie it, can't you see? You too, boy, Mr. Fowl, there's no need for chaining it. That was the largest dragon I've ever seen. Forget seen, I've never heard of something as large as that before. Where did that come from?"

Maybe I took it a little too far, thought Artemis.

"We're safe, Filius, and I think that's all that matters," said Neville.

Ah, Professor Longbottom to the rescue, smiled Artemis. Now what was Artemis so gleeful about?

Artemis Fowl had conjured an illusion so powerful that let alone a dumb dragon, all of Hogwarts was hoodwinked. Of course there had been no second dragon; Artemis knew that the only way to protect Hogwarts was to kill this dragon. It was too large and just too dangerous, and Gringotts or not, it had to be eliminated before it could cause concerns for the students again. And if he did use a spell, everybody watching would know that he had done it.

Before Artemis made the show of flicking his wand, he had already conjured an extremely vivid illusion of the large dragon taking on our Welsh Green. While everybody was occupied with the large dragon enter the picture (something too big is hard to miss), Artemis flicked his wand lightly. The force of the spell was such that it broke through the most ancient enchantments carved gracefully on the dragon to protect it from outsider harm as though they didn't even exist.

This was the third most powerful spell Artemis had at command. The other two would damage much more than the dragon, so Artemis chose this. To convey a better sense of understanding its power, even with Dumbledore's protection, if this spell had been targeted at the Hogwarts castle, half the castle would be in ruins. It was, of course, one of Artemis' own novelties.

ooooooo

A few years ago, one his fellow dragons had escaped that horrible place and rumor had it, escaped upon three of the creatures who tortured and controlled them while outside this dungeon. Inside, short and clever creatures continued the job, giving them a lot of pain with the sounding of the clankers. He knew he was being trained to be taken there, as many of his kin had told him of the horrible fate of their chained brothers, and many having personally experienced it themselves, later relegated to other uses when they were found unfit to stay alive in the tough conditions in those dungeons.

He was the strongest dragon of any group or task he had been put in, but he didn't want to go to that dungeon. A dragon's pride never allowed it to choose wisely.

The man with the red hair was the chief in-charge of maintaining his group, but today he was nowhere to be seen. He was a clever one and not to be fooled around, but with him gone, here was his chance of escape.

And escape he did, strong as he was. For some reason the north just attracted him, and he flew and flew and flew. And suddenly, after crossing so many hills and lush green forests, was the smell of flesh.. fresh and young. He turned and flew towards that smell.

As the smell of the flesh grew stronger, suddenly he started seeing strange colors and was struck with a minor epileptic seizure. By the time he cleared that up, he was still pretty confused. With a giant tail swipe he confirmed that the flashes posed him no great danger and let out an immense roar to scare away all possible adversaries.

He suddenly saw that four creatures that looked like they belonged with his torturers were flying at great speed towards him with those small, dangerous sticks that they carried around their pockets. He knew that they always had a reply for his fire, so he'd have to try something new – and he lashed out his tail, knocking all of them off the longer sticks they were comfortably sitting upon, and to his glee, they lost their dangerous small sticks too.

As he turned his giant bulk to face his running prey, he saw that one of his much bigger kin was coming here to share the meat. How nice it would be! It was a long time before he'd eaten in peace with any of his brothers. But he had never seen another dragon so large, nor even heard of, and he was more and more awed at his size as he drew nearer and nearer. And he didn't look like he was here to share the meat.. it was almost as if..

And before he knew it, he was hit hard at his heart and knew it was a fatal blow. His last thoughts were, how could a dragon be THAT big? The life force in his body left, and his soulless body fell.

ooooooo

Sure that the dragon was dead, and Hogwarts was under no more threats, Artemis glided down to the ground amid august applause, attracting astonished McGonagall from her daze. Oh dear, he was in trouble. How was he going to escape this one?

"What happened to the… the other dragon? The larger one?" asked McGonagall.

"It flew away, Minerva," Neville replied, "and I guess we should be glad it did. If not for that dragon, I doubt we'd still be alive!"

Slughorn, hearing the applause, had understood the dragon to have fallen and rushed out to see the spectacle. But all he saw was an angry Minerva. The dragon's remains lay quite far from their reach, because of the thrust of Artemis' spell.

"Thank heavens, we're safe, Hogwarts and the students are out of harm. This was a most serious neglect on the part of the Ministry and they are going to have to answer all the parents. Prefects will lead their students back to their dormitories, now. Nobody will go near the dragon. Any student who does so will find themselves incurably older than Nicolas Flamel will ever be, and," she said with a dangerous looking smile, "I'm not joking. Neville, Horace, Filius, follow me to my room."

Artemis knew that he did not need to be invited, it was just understood that he had to come too. Slughorn didn't seem very happy about coming to her room, and Artemis could vaguely hear him muttering "she's mad… dragon liver… dragon blood… galleons.. skin…" Artemis stole what he knew might be his last glance at the dragon. Any time now, Ministry officials would arrive to take care of the dragon's remains, now that its location was not obscure anymore.

"What was that, Horace? I didn't hear you properly," said McGonagall.

"Nothing, Minerva, nothing at all, a dragon attacking Hogwarts, and such a big one too, what a nightmare…"

"We'll leave it to the Ministry to answer. Now, will you follow me Horace, Filius, Neville? You too, boy," she said, tapping Artemis' shoulder with her wand.

Artemis had expected as much, and followed McGonagall, wondering which excuses were going to save him from explanations for wandless magic and broomless flight.

ooooooo

**Author's Note****: **Well, it's been long indeed. To say I was too absorbed in other things to spare a thought for this would not be an overstatement. I even considered just forgetting all about this. Then, someone gave me inspiration to continue from nowhere, though I'm not sure if said someone really matters to me anymore or not. But I guess it matters to me that you guys want to see the end of this story, and I did have a decent plot in mind, so I shouldn't stop you from the treat. I'll try my best, guys. I'm sure this is not the last you'll see of me.

Sorry for the short chapter, but you can be sure there is more action to come. I thought a short but quick update was sure better than a large, late update. And do please, read and review!


	8. Explanations

_Disclaimer: The characters are not mine. Except those I created, and they're not copyrighted, so if you want, use 'em as you will. Is that clear?_

**CHAPTER 8**

**EXPLANATIONS**

Ministry officials were just arriving at Hogwarts as Slughorn and the trio who took on the dragon with her walked to her room. She was most concerned about Artemis; the Ministry could wait.

"Maybe you should take care of the students, Horace," said McGonagall, "I daresay the students need you more right now than we do."

Slughorn reluctantly left, eager to know what McGonagall was going to discuss with the others.

She was actively observing him throughout their walk, and he maintained his exercised gravity as usual. As soon as they entered her room she saw Artemis' eyes dart towards Albus and Severus. She sharply watched their interaction to try to discern what went between them couldn't make out the least of it. Severus seemed his usual noisome self, as if he'd just come out of his potions lab smelling noxious fumes. Suddenly, Albus radiated his ever nostalgic smile and even as he did, Artemis' lips quirked in apparent acknowledgement. She understood nothing of the exchange as Albus nodded gravely, as if he'd understood everything that had transpired this apparently fine Saturday morning. She squirmed. These genii got frustrating by the minute.

She was, however, genuinely grateful that Artemis had one way or another saved their lives.

"Mr. Fowl," she said, "we're indebted to you for your quick thinking and saving the three of us, and yourself of course, from certain death; moreover, your colorful illusion bought us enough time for that large dragon – if it was what I saw – to save us from its friend."

She knew she sounded too formal. After all they'd just escaped with their lives and it might well call for celebrations. But she was too used to her old ways and found it hard to speak like an ordinary witch for once.

Now came the time for the interrogation.

"Although we can never express enough gratitude to you for saving the day, Mr. Fowl, I must say, I'm pretty intrigued how you managed to perform magic without a wand and flight without a broom. If you'd care to explain to us, please."

She wasn't really sure whether she was more eager or more afraid to learn about the extraordinary magic Artemis Fowl could command at his will.

Boy, here we go again, were Artemis' last thoughts before he began to speak.

ooooooo

"Professor," he began, "you know of course that I've been experimenting with magic even as I did and still do, with science in the muggle world. As usual, I have come up with some innovations," he finished.

"What kind of innovations are these, Mr. Fowl!" thundered McGonagall, "I understand they have been of great use this morning but I must remind you, magic of the sort you exhibited is as yet unprecedented in wizarding history. He Who Must Not Be Named and some of his followers were the few known persons who could fly without broomstick or thestral, and I have never heard of wandless magic by a wizard in all my life!"

"Haven't you, Professor?" challenged Artemis, "how do you suppose we used magic before we turned eleven, causing considerable commotion in our outskirts?"

Artemis smiled. He loved alliteration, and he loved keeping others in darkness even more.

"Because magic can express itself through a suitable candidate when he most needs it," she sighed, understanding where Artemis was leading. But it still didn't seem to satisfy her fully.

"Yes, Professor, that's exactly what transpired tonight. We were hopeless and I called for any essence of magic left within me to help us out of our onerous host's eerie eyes. The fact that any magic was produced at all was obviously," he said with his trademark vampire smile, "purely accidental."

Snape would have smiled at the way Artemis produced his arguments. And he did.

McGonagall was not convinced. The way he said it... it was almost as if it was completely intentional and had little to do with chance events. Moreover, there was still the matter of mutterings.

"But you were chanting incantations…?"

"Yes, Professor, with a wild hope that some random combinations of incantations I could invoke some desperation into the situation and that somehow or other we would be saved. You surely don't believe that I, barely a second year, would've been able to skillfully save the four of us even while such experienced wizards as yourself, Professor Flitwick or Professor Longbottom failed to think of a solution?"

This had done it. There was definitely something fishy here, thought McGonagall. But it looked like Flitwick had taken the bait.

"Yes, he's right," said Flitwick, "I sensed something was wrong when he was chanting so fast – it did sound so much like gibberish, though I remember catching some rare charms. It makes sense that he was just trying his luck – and with his brains, it must've worked out well."

Artemis knew Flitwick would take the bait. He always had his bit of inferiority complex, though people held him in high regard in spite o his shortness for his knowledge of charms – although it was ironic. He'd understood as much from his coaxing around with the Charms genius that he always apt to be charmed himself. And Artemis had just done precisely that, though this sort of a charm was magic without magic.

Neville was naturally still a little afraid of McGonagall and more favorably inclined to his Charms Professor who had been very kind to him for all the trouble he'd created while at school. He had little thought on whether Artemis had learnt magic beyond his age – he definitely seemed an intelligent little boy. In any case, Neville had understood one thing in his life about magic – it acted in very weird ways, and was more often than not beyond comprehension. While experimenting with magic you often learnt lots of new things about it that never remained the same. For all his accidents, he had certainly learnt many things about magic. In the right hands, it was a beautiful element. So he just chose to nod at what Flitwick said, smiling at Artemis.

Artemis returned an understanding smile.

McGonagall was confused by the turn of events. She had brought Artemis trying to get explanations for his feats of magic but it seemed like Filius believed they were contingent events. It didn't seem to make much sense but suddenly Neville started agreeing with the Professor too. Although she knew that Artemis was a good wizard for his age, still it seemed unlikely that he could perform magic beyond her or Filius or Neville. Perhaps the day's events had been too overwhelming and she was just perturbed. Now she had to speak to the Ministry anyway as well. Enough interrogations for now, perhaps.

"You may leave now, Mr. Fowl, to your House. Filius, Neville, we have to meet the Ministry officials."

Glad that she was too tensed otherwise to remember about his flying issues, Artemis Fowl the Second walked towards the House that lay hidden beneath the greenness of the lake.

ooooooo

The dragon affair had been huge. Students talked about it all the time. Many who'd seen what transpired praised Artemis for his efforts. Those who had run away into the school learnt about what occurred only the Daily Prophet way and Artemis was glad they did – attention was the last thing he sought right now.

Artemis had learnt from the following day's Daily Prophet how a large dragon that had escaped from the Gringotts Training Camp had tried to attack Hogwarts and how a small school boy playing Quidditch, frightened at its approach, used the only spells he knew – which involved some sparks, and how somehow or other that actually confounded the dragon. It had gone on to describe how three of the Professors had bravely mounted their brooms to save the school and the scared boy from the dragon and had been knocked off their brooms along with the boy by a lash of its tail.

Artemis had by then been too frustrated to continue reading. Did the Daily Prophet never get its news straight? In any case, he was glad to be off the news as an innocent little boy saved perchance from the dragon. It was always best to keep one's talents to oneself. Enemies lurked everywhere, ascertaining their foes' strengths and weaknesses.

ooooooo

**Author's Note: **

Well, small chapter. I thought of writing more, but figured it'll take weeks as I have a lot of other stuff to do, so better update with whatever I have already written. Sad thing is, I could have posted this over two weeks ago; only today I decided it'd be better to update now than a month later. Hope it was a li'l bit entertaining though. If not, the next will hopefully be, if you've liked the storyline so far. The next chapter will open up the essence of the title of Artemis' 2nd yr. at Hogwarts, largely dwelling on the first of the five ways.

PS: Do I really need to say 'Pleaseeeeeeeeeeee reviewwwwwwwwwwww!' before you guys do it? Pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee e reviewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww !


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